


Dragonfly

by idmarryyoularry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idmarryyoularry/pseuds/idmarryyoularry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Harry walked down the race to the airplane that would take him far away from everything that reminded him of Zayn and all of the words that they had screamed at each other."</p><p>Harry Styles is involved in a messy breakup and treats himself to a holiday to escape everything. Louis Tomlinson lives and works on an island as a surf instructor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

Harry walked down the race to the airplane that would take him far away from everything that reminded him of Zayn and all of the words that they had screamed at each other. Their relationship had been a colossal waste of time in the end and Harry knew that he was never going to get those eighteen months back.

The state he had left his apartment in was appalling, but he couldn’t bring himself to clean it. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do anything really. He had spent two weeks sitting in his living room, wrapped up in his blanket, eating anything in his home that contained high levels of sugar and fat.

It wasn’t until he had hit rock bottom and then fallen even further into his heartbreak did he drunkenly say enough is enough and booked flights to Fiji.

When he woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache and an email receipt from the airline, he had shrugged his shoulders, figured he had nothing better to do or spend his money on and booked a hotel and insurance and organised the rest of the spontaneous holiday.

The twelve and a half hour flight gave him a bit of time to sleep and a lot of time to think about how stupid and immature this idea was, but a little bit of relaxation never killed anyone.

The air was wet and heavy and he felt overheated the second he stepped out of the airport. He waited on the sidewalk for several minutes, fanning himself with his passport, before successfully hailing a cab.

He spent the whole time with his face turned towards the open window, letting the warm air whip his hair around. The island was beautiful: everything was green, but it was also not a first world country and, although sparse in the tourism dominated area, dotted along the streets were dilapidated homes and children running around with nothing but shorts and a football.

However, when the cab pulled into the resort, the scenery changed and _everything_ was high class and clean. He handed the driver an unknown amount of foreign currency and thanked him. Harry collected his belongings from the back seat and walked up the sandy-white stairs into the reception office.

Harry raked his fingers through his curls and pushed his sunglasses to above his head as he leant over the tanned girl checking him in and checking him out. He smiled to himself as the girl flicked her hair and sparkled her eyes at the boy before her with little to no progress. Not only was Harry dealing with a messy breakup, but he had absolutely zero interest in girls, no matter how attractive they may be.

The young receptionist seemed to notice Harry’s lack of reaction and started to uninterestingly list the rules and perks of the hotel.

Feeling the sun through the windows slowly but surely colour his increasingly hotter skin, he barely listened to a word the girl said. He was beyond taken-in by his surroundings.  
He heard the receptionist mutter something about “adult resort” and “no pets or children”. Harry looked around at that, noticing that the resort was filled completely with elderly couples contently chipping away at their savings from a lifetime of work and younger, tanned singles and newlyweds making the most of their youth and freedom. He thanked his drunken self endlessly for booking the flights and his sober self for finding such a perfect place.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of a man in only board shorts, tanned skin, curved hips and a fantastic ass. The man didn’t turn around though, much to Harry’s dismay, but he wasn’t overly concerned, because as he looked around where the pool was, the sides and chairs seemed to be filled with more than enough gorgeous, tanned boys. Oh, getting over Zayn was going to be no problem.

Harry wasn’t expecting that any of those men were gay or bisexual or even a little experimental, but just sitting by the pool and having a good, proper perve was going to be enough to make him forget Zayn.

Limb for limb, torso for torso, face for face, ass for ass; slowly, but surely, Harry would spend this trip replacing the images of Zayn in his memory with those of the unsuspecting and unknowing residents of the resort.  
“… And for room service and to call reception, just dial the hash key and then 0.” Harry whipped his neck back around so he was facing the girl at the desk. “Did you have any more questions?”

_Where can I sign up for that?_ , Harry thought as another shirtless body walked past him. “Uhm, no, that’s fine thanks.” The girl handed Harry a key ring that carried his room key and a miniature plastic surfboard brandishing his room number: 42A.  
Harry mustered up an award-winning smile for the receptionist who he had wordlessly rejected, which was much appreciated judging by the twitch of her lipstick-pink lips and a wink.

He picked up his suitcase that was full to the brim with two shirts, a few pairs of underwear and a couple of pairs of shorts. Note the sarcasm. Harry had not planned on doing anything else but sitting in the water, around the water, in his bed and at the bar by the water. So packing his wardrobe wasn’t really a necessity.

The walk to his room was short, but scenic. He took in the open area outside the pool, the pool itself, which contained several small spas and a swim-up bar, the breakfast restaurant, the lunch and dinner restaurant and the bar. Although everything was beautiful and grand and tropical, Harry furrowed his brows in confusion and disappointment, as he had not yet caught a glimpse of the beach.

The rooms were in blocks heading upwards: individual, three storied buildings: each room was one level. There were many of these small houses, 50 to be exact. Harry dawdled his way past buildings 1-41 until he finally reached his. The buildings were not particularly wide and only had half a metre in between each one, but Harry suspected that they were quite deep.

He pulled his key out of his pocket, smiling again at the fantastically clichéd surfboard decoration and opened his door and boy, was Harry glad he was on the bottom floor.

The room was deep just as Harry had assumed. It was just one long room, apart from the bathroom at the front, containing a couch, a bed, a mini bar, a desk and some cupboards.

The back wall of the room was completely glass and almost entirely door. The streak-less, glass doors were pushed open and Harry looked out on to the most pure beach he had ever seen in his life. The sand was almost white and the water came in small ripples and reflected a beautiful, soft, clear, blue.

Harry did nothing in terms of unpacking, simply dumping his bag by the door, removing his shirt and shoes, running out to the beach and, once again, thanking his drunken, heartbroken self for booking such a fantastic place.

He was quick to run into the water and felt the most overwhelming sense of paradise the second his toes touched the water. He waded the rest of the way out until he was up to his waist.

The water was warm: beautiful like a salty bath, but cool and refreshing in contrast to the piercing sun.

_Pssht, what even is a Zayn Malik?_

Harry tried to float on his back, but failed miserably, as always. His ridiculously long torso and skinny legs meant he was unbalanced on top of water and definitely not buoyant in any way: his head always floated while his torso gave way and his legs began to sink, bringing him slowly back upright.

He gave up with a sigh and faced back at his room. There were mere metres between the shore and his small deck. He noticed a hammock that he must have walked right past, sitting on the decking, just begging to be napped in.

He decided to respond to the hammock’s cries for attention after towelling off and grabbing a beer and a muesli bar from the mini fridge for himself.

It was mid afternoon when his body occupied the hammock and the sun was well on it’s way to setting when he finally rolled out of the material and stretched out his joints and muscles.

He figured that it was time he go get some dinner, maybe suss out some things to keep him occupied for the next two weeks. He threw on a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of thongs, giggling at the stereotypic attire, shoving his key and his wallet in his pocket and practically skipping off to dinner.

The restaurant he had walked by before had completely transformed. Previously unlit tiki torches were now dimly lighting the area, whilst colourful, lantern-shaped fairy lights brought the place to life. The tables had been undressed and then dressed again in a more formal, cream-colour-themed setting and the waiters had swapped bathers and singlets for plain black shorts and a t-shirt.

It was picturesque.

“Table for one?” Harry queried seemingly unashamedly, but felt the edges of his heart and the ducts in his eyes twinge slightly. The waitress did not flinch, however, and led him to a small table on the side of the restaurant with a huge smile on her face. She pulled out his chair for him and placed his napkin over his lap, which Harry realised was a service that nobody else seemed to be getting and was obviously an excuse for this girl to be close to him and make herself know, before she cleared away the setting for a second person and left him with a menu and a roguish request that he call on her should he need anything ”…. anything at all”. She left him with a swing in her hips and he smiled after her, amused that girls seemed to fall apart before him, yet he could not be less interested.

He spends ten minutes staring into space and wondering how easy his life would be if he were straight and interested in the hundreds of females that threw themselves at him daily.

Would he be happy though? Would he ever find love or would he just have a string of nameless, untamed flings? He isn’t quite sure, but it seems pointless quite a pointless train of thought due to that fact that this is his life and that is his sexuality and anything else is mere fiction.

Harry is only snapped out of his daydream when the waitress bounds over to him, flicks her hair, pouts her recently lip-glossed lips and asks him if he has decided what he wants yet.

The girl was expecting him to say “you, I want you”, but instead he laughed at himself for zoning out and asked her for a few more minutes, but that a glass of coke would “just great in the meantime”.

She returned rejected, but not disheartened just yet, with his drink and her notepad ten minutes later.

Harry ordered the Seafood Platter, which just sounded like classy fish and chips, and Harry was so keen for that. The waitress jotted down his order, twisting her pen between her manicured fingers, entertaining Harry in a way she didn’t know she was doing or, if she knew, want to.

The food came within a matter of minutes and Harry had actually laughed out loud when he saw that a cute, male waiter had grabbed Harry’s plate from the kitchen and had started to bring it over before the waitress who had since introduced herself as Kate intercepted him, mumbling something under her breath to her co-worker, plastering on a smile and bringing the food the rest of the way to Harry.

“Perfect, thank you.” Harry smiled up and the girl, dimples and all, just for fun. Her eyes rolled back into her head a little before she found her focus again.

“Are you on this holiday alone?” Kate asked, trying to suss out some information about Harry’s availability.

“Yeah, I am. I just had a pretty bad break up, so I’m just relaxing a little, trying to get over it.” Harry explained. Kate had shifted her weight onto one side of her petite hips.

“I’m sure she didn’t deserve you anyway,” Kate remarked and Harry found his out.

Harry corrected her, “He.”

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself from smiling, let alone bursting out into hysterics as he watched the waitress who had been shamelessly flirting with him all night register that he is gay and completely and utterly uninterested.

He almost felt sorry for her, but confusing girls had always been a hobby of his. Zayn had loved it: knowing that whenever a girl came up to Harry, he could make a retort of some kind and claim the beautiful boy as his own and never hers.

Kate stuttered out a response of “Still stand by what I said…” and then apologised, wished him well with his meal and left him be.

Harry chuckled and observed her walk over to her co-workers and explain what just happened and how embarrassed she is.

The meal was beyond delicious and fancy fish and chips, just as he had expected. It was the perfect end to a perfect day. He tipped the waitress generously with an apologetic smile for messing with her and got directions on where to find out what activities are on this week.

Harry follows the instructions and minds a message board in the reception room full of things to fill his day with. He stands shifting from foot to foot excitedly as he reads his options.

He’s not too sure if he’s particularly interested in hair braiding and beading, although it would be good for a laugh. A massage day sounds nice, the cocktail making course sounds like a ball and the beach volleyball and mini golf tournaments sound absolutely amazing. Harry starts making a list in his head of things he will do and things he won’t and when he will do them. He also makes note to spend at least five days doing shit all and roasting his skin by the pool with a mojito in hand.

After twenty minutes of deliberation and excitement-induced indecisiveness, he scrawls out “Harry Styles” on the sign up sheet for surfing lessons.

He’s always wanted to learn to surf, but growing up in Holmes Chapel (and then moving to London in his later years) had not really given him any opportunity to do it.

Harry hadn’t realised he was standing aimlessly at the noticeboard, inside his own head, until an arm reached around him and grabbed the surfing sign-up sheet from off the wall.

“Sorry,” the man to whom the arm belonged excused himself.

Harry turned his head to smile and accept the apology, but could only manage, “’’s alright.”

The golden skinned boy looked up through long eyelashes with piercing blue eyes and flashed a quick, but sweet, smile.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Harry could detect a northern English accent and couldn’t decide whether the person in front of him lived on the island or was holidaying like himself.

Harry nodded eagerly, curls bouncing all over the place. The boy smiled again, toothless this time, and turned on his heel to walk away.

“I’m Louis by the way,” Louis waved with his back turned as an afterthought.

All Harry could do was silently and brokenly squeak “Harry” and watched as the stunning person, who couldn’t possibly exist, walked away, but at least with a slight possibility of a tomorrow.

Harry dazed his way back to his room where, even after a perfect day, cried himself silently to sleep. The cool breeze relieved the heat in the room, but not the empty space next to him in bed. Harry knew he was a clingy person, both emotionally and physically, and not being able to fall asleep with someone’s arms around him, particularly Zayn’s, when he’d become so accustomed to it, was difficult.

He slowly calmed himself down enough to get out of bed and sit on the deck watching the waves roll in and out strongly under the full moon and cloudless sky.

Harry had found himself a slice of paradise: he just wished that he had someone to share it with.

He could use a friend.

Zayn had not only won the breakup by moving on effortlessly, but also claimed their mutual friend, Liam, as his. Liam was not one to pick sides, but he was also a very loyal friend, so Harry wasn’t overly surprised when Liam stopped calling Harry back after Zayn had asked him to stop.

The heartbreak, Harry could deal with: he’d dealt with it many times before and knew it was only temporary. The anger and the loss of trust, he knew he would lose eventually.

It was the loneliness that was hurting him, because no matter where he went, it was there. And who is to say that it wouldn’t be permanent. Many people live their lives without a spouse, a partner, a best friend. Many people, including the dishevelled, crotchety old lady on the second floor of his apartment complex back home, surrounded themselves with animals and made friends with the cracks on their bedroom walls and they lived like this. Though, Harry thought, it wasn’t really living: it was existing.

Harry had grown up surrounded by friends and family who loved him dearly and the thing that he valued more than anything, more than money, more than material things, the only thing that he needed to be happy, was to be loved. It was almost selfish, he thought fleetingly. Most people would say they would rather be in love or love, but Harry wanted nothing more than to be loved, whether that is through friendship or a relationship. He needed to feel wanted to be happy and when he felt unwanted… well, they were dark days.

He noticed he was working himself up again, getting frustrated and upset, so he grabbed the sheet of his bed, snuggled into the hammock and dozed off.

 

** +++ **

  


Harry rose from sleep to find himself uncomfortably stiff and covered in mosquito bites.

“Bastards,” he mumbled to himself while he twisted and turned his limbs to get a better look at the itchy, red lumps. He counted one, two three… nineteen little bastards.

The only way Harry knew how to deal with them was to have a cold shower, so he tortured his body with freezing cold water and sighed when he stepped out of the water, dried himself off and the bites were itching again.

He threw on a pair of khaki shorts and a loose, white v-neck, not bothering to dry his hair. It would dry in the sun and the warmth.

When Harry reached the buffet breakfast area, he was shocked to see that there were no single tables. The area was an oversized hut. One long round table stretched all the way around the edge of the hut with chairs on both sides and an unrealistic amount of food on trestle tables in the middle.

Harry slipped through the gap in the table and walked into the centre to the food, grabbing a plate from the end table.

He couldn’t quite decide between fruit and fat and so he went for both. Harry found a free seat and placed his plate of eggs, bacon, sausages and fruit salad on the clear space.

Harry thought he had grabbed more food than he could ever think of eating, but it went down quite well and was nothing compared to the blonde boy sitting opposite him with at least twice as much food as Harry.

The blonde smiled at Harry when he caught him looking at him and Harry smiled back, but then decided it was time to go get ready for his surf lesson.

He wasn’t quite sure what to wear, so he grabbed his board shorts and a pair of undies and headed down to the beach.

It was easy to find: a collection of guests was standing around a pair of sun-kissed instructors.

Everybody else was in wetsuits and Harry suddenly panicked that he didn’t have one, hadn’t hired one and didn’t want to ask.

“They’re in the tub over there,” the blonde boy from breakfast pointed out, “go grab one and put it on in the room there.” Harry thanked the stranger and hurried off to where he had been directed.

The only way to describe how Harry Styles felt in a wetsuit was lanky and stupid.

He mustered up all his courage and stepped out of the room and back onto the beach. The blonde boy ran up to him again, nudging him, “Lookin’ good!”

“Thanks, I’m Harry by the way.” Harry extended his hand towards his new acquaintance.

“I’m Niall, nice to meet ya,” Harry detected a strong Irish accent and instantly felt more comfortable now that he knew Niall’s name.

“Are you sure you should be surfing after eating that much?” Niall let out a hysterically contagious laugh and clapped Harry on the shoulder at his remark. The Irish lad’s eyes crinkled and Harry noticed there were a beautiful blue colour. They were striking against the boy’s milky skin.

He was definitely attractive, cute maybe, but not at all Harry’s type.

“I’m right mate, I’m right.” Niall stood up straight, “And ready. When are we gonna start?”

Just like clockwork, one of the instructors stood up on a rock and shouted out a cheery hello.

Harry recognised the instructor as the man he had met the night before: Louis.

“Everybody’s got a wetsuit on,” Louis wasn’t really asking the question, he was more or less running through a mental checklist, “Everybody’s ready… let’s go then!” Louis clapped his hands together, “This is Stan and I’m Louis.” Stan, the other instructor, waved his hand.

“Uhm, we’ve got ten people today so the five on this side come with me, and the five on that side…” Louis saw a head of curls and a set of green eyes looking up at him, “Oh hi Harry.”

Louis barely paused, but smiled in recognition. Harry beamed back. “And you five, go with Stan.”

Everyone turned to face Harry when Louis singled him out, but quickly shuffled off to his or her designated instructor, keen as beans. Harry and Niall filed off after Stan.

Stan spent the first five minutes introducing himself, explaining that he and Louis had grown up together in England, come here for a holiday, learned to surf and never left. Then he got the four guys and one lady in his class to choose a board from the rack and meet him by the water.

Harry chose a bright blue board and dragged it back to where Stan was waiting and Niall had bound eagerly to.

“Alright, today we will only be going in the water if you get this bit.” Stan explained, using his hands just as much as his mouth when he spoke. He lay his board on the ground horizontal to the five boards facing him and showed them the right technique to standing up.

After half an hour, three of the five students had successfully mastered the skill: Harry, Niall and the girl. Niall explained that he was a “pretty sporty guy, so shit like this is easy for him”.

Harry agreed. Sport was not uncharted territory for him and he found he had always had slightly above average co-ordination.

Balance, however, was a problem. Harry was notorious in every friendship group he’d ever been in for constantly falling and slipping over. He didn’t know what it was: he was fine until he lost control of his balance, because he did not have the ability to regain it.

The second Harry got his board in the water he absolutely stacked it.

He had tried to stand up, the exact same way he had on the sand, but had lost his footing from the instability of the small wave and fell right of the side of the board and into the water.

When he resurfaced, hair wet and covering his eyes, all he could hear was Niall laughing louder than any laugh he’d ever heard in his life.

He slicked his hair back with his hand to see everybody else in his class, including Stan and as well as Louis, laughing. Not as loud or as obvious as Niall, more like a chuckle, but laughing nonetheless.

Harry joined in, giggles escaping his grin-spread lips, and walked back through the water to the shore.

“No problems, Harry.” Stan pat him on the shoulder as he plonked himself down on the beach. “Nobody gets it their first go. At least you know what it feels like now. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and muttered a “thanks”, then settled in on the sand to watch all the other people venture out into the water for the first time and, just as Harry had done, fall comically, immediately and hard into the water.

He couldn’t help himself from taking a glance to his left though, admiring Louis’ taut stomach and golden skin and watching the way that his eyes crinkle when he laughs.

Harry assessed the situation: surf instructor, lives on island with best mate and hundreds of beautiful girls. He just had to be straight.

With that, Harry filed Louis under “look, but don’t touch”, but he wasn’t fussed. As long as he got to look, this was only the first day of a _beautiful_ holiday.


	2. Chapter 2

”You keen for dinner mate?" Niall stood in boardshorts and a singlet eager as a beaver at Harry's hotel doorstep, his enthusiasm completely unaffected by Harry’s perplexed expression. 

”How did you know which room is mine?"

”Oh," Niall chuckled and Harry continued to glare warily. "I'm just two doors down. I saw you go into your room after surfing this morning."

Harry had planned to order in room service and spend the night on his hammock watching the water and wallowing in self pity and his thoughts, so, with a look back over his shoulder to his otherwise unoccupied room and a shrug, he followed his new acquaintance into the warm, tropical air outside.  


The walk to the dinner area was more or less a dawdle, as both boys took the opportunity to get to know each other a little better.  


Harry found out that Niall is from a town in Ireland called Mullingar, he lives in a small flat with his older brother and his day job is stacking shelves at a supermarket. Although, his day job was not his dream job. Since he was a kid, he had always been interested in music and he worked occasionally as a session guitarist. His dream was to become something more and bigger and better in the music industry: make a real name for himself, but that was coming along slowly without the surely.  


”So why are you here then?" Harry asked just as the entered the hut where dinner was served. The were greeted by a lady Harry hadn't seen before and he signalled for a table for two with his fingers, dashing her a quick smile before returning his attention to Niall.  


“Eh, thought I'd just get away." He laughed, "Got to the point where I was working, like fifty hours a week and I just needed a break before it got to me head, ya know?"  


Harry hummed in agreement. 

"And what about you?"  


"I actually had a pretty rough break up and I wasn't good so I just packed up and left." Niall lifted his chin and his eyebrows at Harry's confession quickly before shrugging his shoulders and disposing of any judgement that may or may not have been there.  


"It was a drunk mistake actually. The trip, I mean. Well, it wasn't really a mistake. I just needed to get away from him. He took everything and I was just sitting in my apartment getting drunk and eating heaps and being a sob and I was a mess and none of my friends wanted to see me because they were better friends with him. I don't know, like, have you ever had a break up like that? I just - Sorry I'm ranting on a bit, aren't I?"  


Niall's eyebrows were up in his hairline again, but as Harry was noticing he always does, he just laughed it off and shook his head as if to say it was alright.  


Harry was pleasantly pleased that Niall didn't even react at all to the fact that Harry had just admitted to being gay… or bisexual: Niall didn't know the details. He also didn't seem to be phased at all, taking it under his wing with his chin up and a chuckle. Harry got the feeling that that was how Niall responded to everything and it was incredibly refreshing. 

While Harry had been telling his life story they had been seated at a small table on the outskirts of the restaurant, handed menues and poured waters.  


"Aw fuck, it all sounds so good." Niall remarked as his eyes flashed from page to page of the menu in excitement. Harry smiled to himself as he watched the other boy and longed to have such a carefree personality: to be distracted and pleased so easily, to make people feel comfortable and to be seemingly comfortable around people. Maybe this guy was just the friend he was looking for. Maybe that's what he was going to get out of this trip: not a new boyfriend or a good fuck to forget his ex, but a friend.  


That would be good. Great, even.  


"So how long are you here for?"  


Niall looked up from behing the menu and started to count on his fingers. "I've been here for... five days and I'm here for another... week." His tone was unsure, but he seemed to recount in his head and nodded his head and relaxed his features, realising that he had been correct. "It's just a short trip, but it should be just enough, ya know?"  


"Yeah, definitely, that's great," Harry filled. "Today's only my second day actually and my trip in total is two weeks, so I'll probably end up leaving a day or two after you."  


"How perfect's that, ey?" Harry was nudged by Niall's elbow over the table, "Lot'sa time to spend together."  


The waitress hovering to the side of their table interrupted Harry's smile, but replaced it with her own, beaming down at the two boys, notebook in hand.  


Niall ordered the chicken salad and explained that he was trying to try new things on this holiday when Harry gave him a questioning look, because Niall definitely didn't seem like a salad kind of guy. Harry ordered exactly the same thing as he had had the previous night: fancy fish and chips, because he wasn't a new-things person and that meal was damn good.  


"What'd you think of the surfing lesson? Good fun ey?"  


Harry laughed at the memories of earlier that morning. "Yeah definitely. I'm really terrible, really," Harry added, to which he received a playful punch on the shoulder and an encouraging slur. "Stan's good fun too."  


"Yeah he's great. Oh yeah, I forgot to ask you," Harry lowered his water from his mouth and awaited Niall's question. "How come the other instructor knew you? Leo? Lewis? -"  


Louis," Harry corrected. "Yeah, I met him briefly the other day when I wrote my name on the sign up sheet. I was standing like a stunned mullet at the board and he came over to collect the sheet and introduced himself." 

"Ah kay," Niall lowered his eyebrows at the new information and nodded his head. 

The two continued conversation about other things they wanted to do whilst on holiday and laughed and bitched about other people from their surf class and clambered on about just how _excited_ they were to get back in the water the next day. 

Their meals came and were eaten. Their drinks were drunk and they laughed and conversed until there were few remaining in the restaurant. They picked up their respective halves of the cheque and thanked the waiters and waitresses on the way out. 

"Did you wanna go to the bar?" Niall asked as they sauntered back out onto the main pathway. 

"Nah, I think I'm gonna call it a night," Harry patted his new mate on the back, though Niall didn't seem deterred one bit and Harry would not be surprised to find out tomorrow that he spent the whole night in the bar making other friends. "Had a good night though. See you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah mate," Niall grinned, "10am nice and early. Wouldn't miss you stacking it on a two centimetre wave for the world." 

Harry punched him lightly and playfully while a mix of a chuckle and a faux gasp passed his lips. He turned around wordlessly and headed towards his room and had been correct about Niall scampering off to the bar with or without him. 

He fiddled in his wallet for his key card before unlocking his door and sliding into the dark, muggy hotel room. 

It had to have been at least 32ºC that day and the nights weren't that much cooler. Harry's British body just wasn't acclimatised to temperatures that high with a sun as blaring and belligerent as it had been. It wasn't all that bad though, as Harry had kicked off his thongs after returning from his surf lesson and put the hammock and a paperback novel to good use. 

Now though, Harry just wanted some time with his thoughts. He shuffled languidly to the big, glass doors and slid them open letting some air into his room as well as allowing him to walk out and sit at the edge of the deck. 

Harry dug his feet into the cooling sand and wiggled his toes beneath the surface, watching the sand on top topple away from the movement. He absentmindedly dispersed sand with his feet until he had dug a small trench for them to rest in. He sighed when he finished, lying back and crossing his hands behind his head as a pillow. 

That was when he really started listening to the thoughts in his head. The focal points were that Niall is a nice lad and Zayn’s a jerk and every few rounds there would be an _“and Louis’ pretty fit too”_. 

Eventually, Harry got sick of going in circles and his eyes started to lose their focus on the unquantifiable sprinkle of stars above him. He pushed himself up and walked into the room, closing the doors behind him and pulling the sheer curtains across to cover them. 

After learning his lesson the previous night, he quickly sprayed himself with bug repellent and hopped under the mosquito net before slipping into bed and another lonely night. 

+++

When Harry rolled over in the morning, he expected to fling his arms out into nothing but open space and an empty bed, but his fingers swatted against some kind of material and Harry sat up and his eyes flew open and he may have even yelped. 

Harry’s attacker had been nothing less than the white mosquito net that billowed from the ceiling and protected him. After a few seconds of taking in his surroundings and piecing together where he was and remembering why he wasn’t in his own grotty bed in London, he blushed slightly at the noise of fright he had made even though nobody was around to hear it: or so he thought. 

“Get a bit of a fright, mate?” Niall poked his too-enthusiastic head around the corner or the back doors and he chuckled gleefully. He was far too awake for whatever time it was in the morning and Harry flopped back down on to his bed and became lost in the tangle of white sheets and white pillows and that damn mosquito net. 

Harry groaned as Niall slid open the fly-wire door and stepped into his hotel room, completely uninvited but not unwelcome. 

Harry loved that Niall was so open and enthusiastic and friendly and Niall had slotted himself into Harry’s life seamlessly. Although, Harry thinks that Niall has the ability to do that to everyone and anyone. He’s just a comfortable guy and Harry liked that, liked that he could be the quieter one in their new friendship: he was never overly confident. 

“Niall, piss off,” was barely a mumble, “I don’t wear anything to bed so I’m naked.” 

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before mate,” Niall noted, “now get the fuck up we’re going surfing!” 

“How did you even get in here?” Harry groaned when Niall jumped up onto the end of his bed and pretended to surf. He rolled himself over, shuffling away from the blond idiot catching waves on his bed and grabbed a pair of boxers from the floor next to his bed. He put them on underneath the sheets while Niall jumped off and lifted his arms and chin like an Olympic gymnast after a perfect landing. Harry just laughed incredulously, but in a loving way. 

“Doors were open so I thought I’d come wake ya up!” Niall beamed at him and Harry had no option but to not be mad with that kind of a grin. 

“Okay, I just need to fix myself up,” Harry groaned, grabbing his boardshoarts on the way to the bathroom. 

He wouldn’t have worried about his appearance, but Louis was going to be at the surf lesson and so he couldn’t turn up looking like a dog. He brushed his teeth and washed his face and made himself smell half decent before motioning for Niall to follow him as he headed for the door. 

When they got to the beach and hopped into their wetsuits, Louis and Stan announced that the class sizes had not dwindled and so the two groups were reformed with their respective leaders and taken through the basics again. 

This time, however, every last person was forced into the water. Niall managed to stand up for approximately five seconds before he threw his arms into the air victoriously, thus comically losing his balance. Harry still wasn’t able to stay up once he found his feet. He was actually quite good at standing up, he thought. But every single time he thought he had it, he would topple. 

After losing his dignity several times over, Harry retreated to the beach to once again watch the rest of the class both fail and succeed from the safety of solid ground. 

Two people in Louis’ class had managed to get the hang of it and Harry couldn’t help but watch Louis’ face light up when they got it and watch his face crinkle with laughter when they fell. 

Harry was called back into the water for one last try, but he failed spectacularly and managed to slap his arms on the water on impact hard enough to sting and leave a red mark. Niall’s booming laugh didn’t help his embarrassment. 

The two instructors called everybody in to where they were standing and said that the lesson was over, but they were welcome to stick around. Harry only had to take one look at Niall to see his pleading eyes and realise he was going to be staying for quite a while. 

“Okay sure, I’ll wait on the beach.” Harry answered the blonde’s wordless request and he scampered off into the waves. 

Harry stuck his surfboard into the sand and laid himself down on the beach, closing his eyes and feeling the warm rays on his eyelids immediately. He was completely at peace, drifting even, until he heard movement through the sand and felt someone next to him. 

He opened one eye partially to see Louis sat next to him, watching the water. 

Harry sat up and cleared his throat, as Louis’ gaze still hadn’t shifted to him. When it did though, it came with a small smile and little “hello”. 

“Hey, why aren’t you out there?” Harry asked, putting his arms behind him to hold his body up in a seated position. 

Louis seemed to smile to himself before replying, “I spend all day in there. Plus, you looked like you needed company.” 

“Could do.” 

Harry cursed himself for not being open ended and the conversation died down for a while until Louis laid back against the sand and Harry had to talk to distract himself from staring. Louis had taken off his wetsuit, like Harry, and his golden skin was taut across his stomach and chest. 

“So, erm, do you live here or?” 

Louis opened his eyes and turned to face Harry and Harry maybe felt a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, Stan and I were mates back in Doncaster… that’s where I’m from, and we got sick of the cold, came here for a holiday, learned to surf and never left.” Louis smiled softly and Harry wondered if a full on smile from Louis was somewhat of a rarity. From first impressions, Harry found Louis to be of soft tone, but loud voice with small smiles and happy to share himself. 

“That’s amazing. You’re so lucky, it’s beautiful here.” 

“It really is,” Louis muttered. “What about you, Harry? Why are you here?” 

“Just needed to get away. Too cold and busy back home.” The last thing Harry wanted to do was scare Louis off, so he sugar coated. 

“Fair enough,” Louis brought himself back up so that he was sitting next to Harry, both boys fiddling mindlessly with sand. “Where is home, Harry?” 

Harry loved the way that Louis said his name. And that he was saying it every time. The lad’s voice was oddly delicate and laced with sincere interest. 

“Holmes Chapel, originally. I moved to London though, for work and relationships and study.” 

“You in a relationship now?” Louis’ eyebrows raised in anticipation. 

Harry laughed, “No, hence holiday.” 

Louis nodded, but did not linger on the topic. 

“Studying? Working? What do you do?” Harry wanted to make light of Louis asking endless questions, but decided against it in fear of making the questions stop. 

“I just work in a sports bar down the road from me at nights and I’m studying Journalism,” Harry admitted, “I took a semester off though to travel.” Harry left out the part where both him and Zayn had taken the time off and planned to travel together, but that hadn’t really worked out. 

“That’s cool,” Louis noted, pushing himself up so he was standing in front of Harry, “It’s getting a bit too warm, wanna head in?” Louis threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the water. 

Harry moved to stand up but instead was offered a helping hand. He secretly noted how much he loved that his hand completely enveloped Louis’ petite while the smaller boy hauled him to his feet. 

Sitting in the shallows, he told Louis about Niall, about how they’d just met yesterday but he was pretty cool and they both ended up standing and cheering him on. Louis called out tips and pointers as Niall slowly but surely got the hang of standing up on the board. 

Harry would have been content with sitting and watching the crystal-clear water breaking around Louis’ golden skin and the way his eyebrows furrowed as he squinted to keep the harsh sun out of his eyes. He could have watched Louis laugh, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, all day. Watch as his hair dried and became a soft brown, fluffy mess. However, it was less than an hour before Niall waded over, surfboard in tow, requesting food and rest. 

Harry waved goodbye to Louis and called out that he’d see him tomorrow. The sweet smile Louis responded with made Harry’s lips turn upwards on their own accord. 

Considering he had talked the boy twice and spent maybe an hour with him in total, he shouldn’t have been noticing the little things about Louis and admiring him the way he was, but Harry couldn’t really care less. 

He was in the best mood he’d been in since long before his break up. 

So he wasn’t going to ruin a good thing. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and avoided Niall’s jabs and joined in the banter as they trotted off to lunch. 

+++

“So you and Louis seem like good mates?” Niall shouted over the loud music. 

They were in one of the three bars at the hotel, though this one was louder and crazier and drunker than the other two. Niall had chosen this one and Harry really wasn’t surprised, because the blonde _is_ loud, crazy and drunk. 

“We’ve spoken like twice,” Harry laughed it off. 

“C’mon mate, I know you’re int’ guys cause you said you had a boyfriend,” Niall’s words were only slightly slurred at this point, “so, do you like him?” 

“Like I said, we’ve only spoken literally twice.” 

“Would you fuck him?” Niall asked without skipping a beat and Harry actually spat out some of his drink in shock, just like a character in a sitcom. Harry had already realised that Niall never meant to be harsh or rude or intrusive, he was actually blissfully unaware that some things he says or asks aren’t appropriate. Harry liked it though: it was amusing. 

“Uhm…” was all Harry could muster up before he stumbled over his words to try and answer. _“Yeah, I probably would,”_ he answered inwardly, but externally he remained silent and took another sip of his beer. 

“Gaaaaaah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya,” Niall patted him on the back before he turned around and ran off to chase a girl who had caught his eye. 

Harry found himself alone at the bar with nothing but his beer and more than a handful of girls throwing glances at him. 

“Hi?” a girl’s voice came to Harry’s attention, accompanied by a light tap on his shoulder and he spun around to greet it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [gasp] An update? I know, I can't believe it either.  
> Hope you like, sorry about the wait, kisses, etc.

“Hi?” Harry spun around on his chair to greet the light voice and the tap on his shoulder to see the waitress from his first night. The one with whom he had mercilessly toyed with before finally letting her know that he was not interested in anyone of female gender.  


He felt a little twinge of guilt, but her face seemed to brighten when she realised that yes, yes it was him.  


“Kate,” she re-introduced herself, “I served you at dinner the other night.”  


“Yeah no, I remember. ‘m Harry.” He held out his hand and gave hers a delicate shake. Everything about her seemed a little delicate, or maybe it was just the femininity that Harry wasn’t used to. He had female friends, he had his sister and his mother: he was not new to feminine characteristics, but this girl was the whole ten yards. Kate was long, manicured, pink nails, she was a flower in her hair, she was a fair amount of mascara and to say she had sun-kissed skin would have been an understatement.  


Not dressed in her work uniform, Harry realised that she was a bit of a barbie, but in a beachy, settled kind of way.  


“So not made any friends yet then Harry?” Kate joked and Harry chuckled along, registering her subtle American accent.  


“I’ve made a couple, they’re just off and about.” He scanned the bar for Niall, finding the blonde pouring beers down his throat with a small crowd cheering him on. “That’s Niall, he’s fantastic, but he has a bit too much energy for me… I can only keep up for so long.” Harry gave a little smirk.  


“Fair enough.”  


Harry felt the conversation die down and he really didn’t want to be caught in silence. “Not working tonight?”  


Kate giggled and flashed a smile, lifting a perfect little hand to the bartender who started to make her a wordlessly ordered drink.  


“Nope. Got the night off,” she paused briefly to thank the barman and take a testing sip of her vodka and soda. “I get a few nights off a week, but I prefer to have the days off, because I can be out in the sun and in the surf.”  


“You surf too?”  


Kate laughed, “Well there’s not too much else to do on this island. I take it that you surf?”  


A small smile touched Harry’s lips and he looked down at his half empty glass embarrassedly, “I try. I’m doing lessons.”  


He looked back up at the girl with a proper grin now, “I’m terrible.”  


“So, if you didn’t come for the surf,” there was a light tone to Kate’s voice and she twirled the lime and ice around at the bottom of her glass with the light blue straw that stuck out of it, “what brings you to my neck of the woods?”  


“Bad break up. Needed space and sun and to get out of my apartment.” Harry ran his hand threw his sweat-slicked curls; it was well past midnight, but boy was it hot. The humidity was draining.  


“That’s right,” Kate noted under her breath, “Totally forgot… sorry?”  


“Nah it’s okay. Good to talk about it I guess.”  


Harry offered her a comforting smile, so that she knew she hadn’t crossed some kind of line: that all conversation was welcomed.  


“So what happened then? I mean, if it’s good to talk about it… was it bad?”  


The whole breakup ran its course in Harry’s head, there were a few brief seconds of silence where he remembered everything and placed each event sequentially, bringing back to the forefront of his mind the memories that had been tucked away, nay, shoved away in a deep, dark cupboard.  


Kate was patient: she sat and calmly sipped at her drink, not watching him expectantly or willing him to speak, just waiting. Harry appreciated that. She earned a gold star in his books.  


“Do you want to go for a walk?” Harry decided on. It was much too loud in the bar for him to find his thoughts and feelings and memories. Kate nodded and quickly slurped the last of her drink through the straw, placing it back down on the bar. She jumped off her stool, landing lightly on the ground then walking towards the exit with a faint smile on her lips.  


Harry got one last glimpse of Niall as he slithered his way through the buzzing, hot crowd. The blonde was lying on a table and Harry counted at least four people doing body shots off of his stomach, all while he threw his head back in laughter, cheeks burning red with a mix of what was most likely mild embarrassment, arousal and alcohol. He really was a sight to see, but a good one at that. Everybody around him seemed to be having the time of their lives, Niall included, so Harry didn’t bother to wish him a good night or bid him farewell. 

He just smirked to himself at the other lad’s behaviour and followed the back of Kate’s head through the people, out of the bar and on to the beach.  


They walked silently and she lead them to a large piece of driftwood that sat upon the beach. Harry didn’t think that it had just floated onto the shore from the ocean to sit perfectly on the sand: it seemed too well-placed.  


Kate’s feet dangled above the ground from where she perched herself on the driftwood, Harry taking a seat beside her, his toes skimming the sand.  


“So,” Kate begun for him.  


“So…” Harry continued, “His name is Zayn.” Harry couldn’t help but notice that way he almost spat his name, not the way he used to so lovingly and soft. “We met in high school, we were best friends to lovers, then we went official and fell in love. We moved to London to study, we had a place together, we shared friends and food and a bed and a life and then something changed. He started getting pretty distant. I mean, he’s always been a little bit on the quiet side, especially if you don’t know him. But that was the thing… it took so much effort for him to be comfortable enough with you to show you the real him and even though he was out of his shell for a couple of years with me I feel like it was gone in a flash.”  


Harry sighed, watching his toes draw meaningless lines in the sand. He pressed on with another breath, “He’s the real artsy type you know? Draws and sings and writes, the whole lot. He uses it as an escape though and I started to notice he was focusing more on that stuff than he was with me. Then he started going to uni parties without me and that’s when the red flags starting popping up.”  


Kate sat silently. She had spun around to face Harry with her legs crossed and her chin rested in her petite hands, elbows on her knees. She was listening: really listening.  


Another gold star in the Harry book.  


“Long story short, he started caring about everything else more than he cared about me and I tried, I tried so hard that I begged, and I think it just got too much for him… _I_ got to much for him and then he staggered in one morning at nine a.m. with a love bite on his neck. I didn’t say anything the first time, I just…” Harry took a shaky breath, “I don’t know, I just didn’t really want to believe it so I let it pass, but then it happened again.”  


He looked up at Kate and her expression was focused, her eyebrows tugged together, her lips pouted in disapproval. Harry continued with a shrug.  


“We fought. I screamed at him and he told me to _‘piss off ‘arreh’_ ,” Harry would have laughed at his futile attempt at Zayn’s accent had the situation been different. “He was always so blasé about it: like he didn’t really care that I was slipping away or upset or leaving. He would just sit there, he didn’t really fight back, and he didn’t fight for me.”  


Harry lifted his head and plastered a beaming smile on his face, forced a light tone into his voice, “And that, m’love is the story of how Zayn fell out of love with me and I ended up eating cereal in my pyjamas for weeks on end like a slob and also how I got to this,” Harry motioned at their surroundings, “wonderful slice of paradise.”  


He drew a comically exaggerated breath and Kate smiled up at him.  


“I’m sorry about that, Harry,” her tone was careful and quiet, “Really am. You deserve much better than that.”  


Harry tipped his head in thanks, a few stray curls falling over his face.  


“Speaking of!” Kate perked up, clearly trying to lighten the fallen mood, “We need to find you better. I’d offer myself, but you’ve already made the chances of that happening clear,” she nudged him with a wink and a grin and Harry couldn’t help the laugh that passed his lips, 

“so seen any man candy?”  


The laughing sound that Harry made scared both of them, Kate’s eyes lighting up in surprise at the loud, abrupt guffaw and Harry slapped his hand over his mouth: stifling the aftershock of giggles.  


“Man candy”, he repeated bemusedly. “Not really, no. There are a few guys that are pretty fit… there’s quite a lot actually. But haven’t really met anyone.”  


Harry wouldn’t really say that he was lying through his teeth, but there definitely was a golden-skinned, blue-eyed, surf-teaching boy at the forefront of his mind the second the words _man_ and _candy_ were put out in the open.  


Although, he got the feeling that Louis wasn’t really the “man-candy” kind of guy: not someone you could quickly get off with then never see again. Harry felt like he was an addiction waiting to happen: could feel it already even. From the second he saw him to when they had spoken on the beach earlier, it was never enough and every time that Louis left, Harry was left waiting for the next time they crossed paths.  


“Well, I’m a pretty good wing-woman if I must say so myself…” Kate wiggled her eyebrows at a blushing Harry.  


“Any and all assistance would be greatly appreciated,” he replied in a faux formality.  


Kate jumped off from where she sat on the wood, using her arms to push herself up and off, tumbling slightly when she hit the uneven sand she found beneath her feet. She turned back to smile at Harry, as he followed her lead: the two continuing talks about where home is and relationships and all sorts of nonsense, alternating between walking, running and downright _galloping_ down the moonlit shore.

  
  
+++

There was no way that Harry was ever going to get used to waking up to the beautiful calm of the water splashing ever so slightly as they rolled up and down the warming sand, the faint rustle of the trees welcoming him into his day.  


No way he would ever, ever get used to it… not with Niall knocking furiously on his door, hollering at him to wake up and ’open the fuck up’.  


Another peaceful morning ruined by the Irish lad’s unsourced energy and unnecessary volume.  


Harry groaned loudly, not bothering to form words, but hoped the boy outside realised that meant that he was awake, coming and to just give him a minute to find some pants.  


He slipped into a pair of obscenely bright, yellow board shorts and begrudgingly opened the door to his hotel room. Though, the second he had cracked it open, Niall shoved it the rest of the way open, forcing Harry to jump backwards and laugh once he’d found his feet as he watch the blonde waltz his way into the room like he belonged there.  


Just like he had done figuratively with Harry’s life. He had not known Niall for more than three days, but the lad had slipped effortlessly into his life, into his days, into his personal space (he’s yet to have that discussion with Niall). It was nice.  


Nice to have something so easy: so thoughtless.  


“There’s some sort of fruit-themed bullshit at the breakfast bar this morning,” Niall started immediately, making a beeline for something on the other side of Harry’s room, “Everything’s… fresh and colourful.”  


He waved his hands around and pulled a face, clearly not a fan of a healthy breakfast.  


“There’s no eggs and sausages it’s all healthy. I’m stealing sugar and fat from your minibar.”  


It wasn’t a question, but Harry still tried to answer: “No, you have your own mi-“  


“It’s empty.”  


Niall cut him off, hands already full of chocolates and a bottle of cola.  


“Of course it is,” Harry replied defeatedly. He would make him pay for the chocolates. Harry had glanced over the mini-bar prices and almost had a heart attack, vowing to never touch a thing in there. “You owe me a drink later.”  


“Sure thing. Now let’s go.”  


Harry watched the back of the blonde’s head as he walked out of the room simultaneously shoving a Kit Kat into his mouth. Harry grabbed a discarded white V-neck shirt that he’d left on the floor, throwing it over his chest and following the bounding blonde.  


The air outside was heavy with impending heat despite it being still quite early in the morning. Harry knew it was going to be a really hot day. He liked that though: it never got warm enough in England. He was starting to realise that he’s definitely a summer person; he loves the sun and the heat and the light clothes and the way that everyone’s a little bit cheerier.  


Niall was right about the breakfast bar and the tables that usually presented a buffet of sausages, breads, spreads, pancakes and cereals now displayed a colourful array of fruits… every fruit Harry could name and some he had never seen before. People lined up before the tables, filling plain, white ceramic bowls with fruits, muesli and yoghurts. Everything was so fresh and beautiful.  


Harry filled a small bowl with every colour of the rainbow and a banana on the side while Niall begrudgingly poured himself a bowl of muesli and yoghurt: no fruit.  


Before they had even found a place to sit, Niall had leaped head first into stories (only what he could remember, and there was a fair bit he couldn’t) of the night before. It was full of body-shots and hook ups and new friends and names Harry hadn’t heard before and so many people and Harry felt socially exhausted just listening to him.  


It was one thing to go out and have a big night for Harry, but to do that every second night? He wasn’t quite sure how the other lad managed it. He must have something else in his blood, Harry mused silently.  


“So who was that girl you were with, ey?” Niall smirked and chuckled his words out, “Saw you leave together.”  


Harry laughed, “Not even interested in the slightest. You couldn’t be further off.”  


“So you’re not into girls at all?”  


Harry shook his head in response, Niall shrugged nonchalantly.  


“More for me then, ey?” Always the optimist, Niall was. “She was pretty fit too so dibs.”  


Harry waved his hand dismissively, as if to say _’She’s all yours mate.’_  


Breakfast continued like so, retelling stories and events and conquests, making plans for future events and conquests.  


That is until Harry languidly checked his watch to see that their surf lesson had started five minutes ago.  


“Niall!” The blonde looked up, comically almost with milk dribbling down his chin, at Harry’s sudden outburst and the way he was gathering his things and pushing away from the table. “We’re late!”  


“To what?”  


Harry looked at Niall incredulously, “To our bloody surfing lesson! C’mon!”  


“Eh, I don’t know if I can be bothered today.”  


Harry definitely did _not_ stamp his foot. Niall’s eyebrows flew towards his hair, a knowing look coming across his face as he slumped back into his chair.  


“Why are we so keen to go?” He folded his arms across his chest, smirking slightly.  


 _’Louis’_ danced across Harry’s tongue, but he did not open his mouth. Instead, he stuck out his bottom lip and tried to look as defenceless and adorable as was humanly possible.  


It worked like a charm.  


It always did.  


Niall stood up with a sigh and a wag of his index finger, “I’m on t’ you.”  


But there were no more questions as they made their way to the beach, for which boy in question was eternally grateful. Not because he didn’t want to answer, but more because he didn’t know if he had an answer.  


He knew that the reason he wanted to go was to see Louis. He knew this was turning into a childish crush. He knew that this was stupid and embarrassing.  


This isn’t what he came on this holiday for. He came to relax and ignore the male species completely.  


He’d already made a friend, which was more than he bargained for, but a welcomed situation. A crush though? A stupid, silly, giddy, heart-eyes crush? Well, that was definitely not a welcomed situation.  


When they finally stepped onto the beach, kicking off their shoes where the sand began and making their way over to grab wetsuits and boards, they saw that everybody was already in the water.  


Harry forced down a small smile when he saw Louis sitting on his board in the shallows, calling out instructions, throwing his head back in laughter: the sun and water reflecting off his skin, so beautifully golden.  


They slipped into their wetsuits, Harry left his unzipped from the waist up though, the top half of it hanging around his hips.  


They waddled towards the water, sun hot and the sand already burning the bottoms of their feet.  


“Sorry we’re late,” Harry apologised as he reached Stan, “we got stuck at breakfast.”  


“No problems mate. ‘s not school,” Stan smiled and Louis turned around a few feet away when he heard their voices, “come and go as you please.”  


Niall clapped Stan across the back, striding straight past and out to the waves enthusiastically.  


So much for not wanting to come.  


Harry looked up and saw that Louis was still looking in their direction, giving him a sweet smile and what appeared to be a sigh of relief when green met blue. Harry didn’t break eye contact as he waded through the shallows, never losing the slight smile on his lips, watching as Louis’ eyes flickered down to his stomach every few seconds. It was subtle, but Harry saw.  


Harry saw and Harry smiled and Harry miraculously managed to not blush, instead just waving hello and following Niall into the surf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I never intended on having an original character (Kate) in my planning but it kind of just happened so let's just roll with it ok. 
> 
> I feel like I've got a whole heap of motivation back so updates should a bit more frequent, especially with this story. I'm really starting to plan for it and I'm so pumped, I'm really really liking where this story is going in my head, hope you like what you've seen so far :)  
> x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University is over, I have two weeks of lazing around at home so here's an update... there will be more where that came from. Stay tuned.

The final surfing lesson – Harry’s fifth day on the tropical island – went by in a flash. Harry had become alarmingly accustomed to the morning routine of a bounding blonde boy knocking at his door ferociously before dragging him to have a banana and a coffee while he watched his mate scoff down a few armfuls. He would be then forced to nag Niall to leave the breakfast bar and go down to the beach, giving him a small lecture on the importance of waiting after you eat before you swim.

“I’m not swimming, I’m surfing,” was always the Irish lad’s smartarse response at which Harry rolled his eyes, still dragging him by the arm and marching toward the beach.

When they arrived, everyone was slow to start: now that they had spent a few days together, everyone was a little bit closer and the first half hour was a lot of chatter and not much surfing. Once they got in the water, everyone simply did their own thing, riding waves: some had benefited from the lessons while others were clearly just never going to learn.

Louis and Stan sat atop their boards, floating in the water and yelling out instructions and congratulations to their students… playful insults and smart comments to those whom they’d befriended.

Harry would like to say that he was probably the one that Louis got along best with and he was quite sure that was actually the case: Louis and he got along effortlessly.

They got along so well that Louis asked him and Niall to stay and hang out after the lesson concluded with a “hope we taught you something” and an open ended farewell.

To be honest, Harry wasn’t entirely up for more surfing, he found it incredibly exhausting, but more so embarrassing with the amount of times he stood but flailed and fell. So, he just took to sitting on the beach and watching Niall splash around and sometimes actually stand up and catch a wave successfully while Louis and Stan were impressively poised and balanced.

The surf instructors were pretty good surfers – no surprises there.

Harry put his sunglasses over his eyes, his towel beneath him and dug his toes into the warm sand, basking in the feel of the scorching sun darkening his skin and warming every single last, little cell in his body.

He pulled his phone out from the small backpack he’d lugged to the beach and started flicking through his text messages.  
He had one from his mum asking him how the trip was and that she hoped he was really relaxing. His fingers swiped across the screen as he set a mental reminder to reply later.

As Harry scrolled absentmindedly lower into his text messages, he saw past conversations with Liam and Zayn. He swiped across Zayn’s name, tapping on the appearing ‘delete’ button and all of their conversations, all of their history: the good times and the breakup. It was all gone.

Harry felt nothing.

He did the same with Liam, but it was a little harder because he had no real reason to delete Liam from his life. Liam had not cheated on him, Liam had not broken up with him or broken his heart.

All he had done was choose Zayn’s side, but that meant that Harry was no longer interested in his company.

“Oh, gimme that,” Louis plopped down next to Harry, running a hand through his wet hair and flattening it back.

He held out his hand and Harry complied, placing his phone on Louis’ open palm.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” Louis mumbled, typing something into Harry’s phone before returning it with an over-the-top grin.

The screen displayed a contact page. Louis had added himself to Harry’s contacts, name complete with emoticons of a little man surfing.

“In case you ever want to go for a surf… or something.”

Harry nodded and smiled gently in thanks, putting his phone back into his bag and settling back against the sand.

The other boy mirrored him, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head. Wetsuits removed, the two boys laid there on the beach, quite close but not talking.

Harry made occasional sneaky glances to his left: taking in Louis’ taut, golden stomach and his eyelashes, which were more of a dark blonde than black after being bleached by constant sun and they were so very long. There was something about that boy’s eyelashes that Harry found so soft and almost pretty.

 _That’s it_ , Harry thought. That was the word to describe Louis: he was very pretty.

And he didn’t quite know he felt about that.

“So I can’t remember if you told me already or not, but how much longer are you here for?”

“I think I have…” Harry counted on his fingers, “Nine more days after today. I’m here for two weeks total.”

“Oh good, I’ll get to see a bit more of you,” Louis noted so very casually.

“Yeah, you will.”

Harry had the last words and the two fell silent, instead tuning in to the sounds of the waves crashing into each other and the sand beneath them. Louis closed his eyes again and Harry sat up to look at him easier.

He amused himself with the sand around his ankles, aimlessly digging. His vision flittering between the boy laid beside him and the sand beneath his fingers.

It was everywhere. These little tiny grains of varying shades of yellow, cream and black sprinkled lightly over every part of his skin, matted through his hair. He leant down to brush away the grains stuck in the hairs of his legs and arms. Everything was just _sand, sand, sand._

He caught a brief glimpse of electric blue eyes watching him lazily and he was suddenly sure that if he weren’t careful, soon everything would just be _Louis, Louis, Louis._ The blue of his eyes and the slight tinge of arrogance that always played at his lips would be more stuck in his head and his heart than the granules of sand under his fingernails.

Harry opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly. Several times deciding to say something, but then choosing otherwise.

He finally settled on clearing his throat to try and break the silence.

Louis cracked open an eye, still severely squinted to keep out the bright sun.

“You right?” Louis asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry cleared his throat again, this time a little bit nervous. “Tad bored.”

Louis laughed a soft chuckle and lifted his torso to prop himself up on his arms, pushing out his chest that bore a small wisp of light hairs in its centre.

“Nobody’s ever said they were bored when they’re with me.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as well, pushing Louis and sending him toppling theatrically to the ground far too easily. “I bet not.”

Both boys kept laughing, while Louis brushed himself off, spitting out some sand that had got into his mouth.

“You’re far too strong, Harry…?”

“Styles,” Harry finished for him. “If that’s what you were asking.”

The golden boy flashed a golden grin, “I think I knew that, because it was on the sign up sheet, but either way…” Louis leant forward to amuse his fingers with digging a hole in the sand, “Oh and where are my manners? I’m Tomlinson.”

Louis extended his hand and Harry couldn’t help but take another opportunity to muscle the smaller boy around a little bit. He took Louis’ hand, shaking it twice before he leapt to his feet and dragged the other boy up with him.

“Well, I guess now that we’re standing up,” Louis joked through his laughter, “Do you want to go get –“  
“HARRY!”

The beckoned boy cursed internally.

“HARRY! Maaaate,” Niall approached the two boys, clapping his hand over Harry’s back and not at all conforming to any social standards of not interrupting people. “’m starving. Let’s go get lunch and a drink, ey?”

Harry looked wide-eyed at Louis. He was almost sure that Louis was about to ask him if he wanted to go get a drink or lunch with just the two of them.

“Oh, and you two can come too, of course,” Niall added, addressing Louis and Stan, and Harry would be lying if he was to say he had realised Stan was standing next to Louis.

The four spent the next two minutes deciding where to go for lunch. Niall was flat out determined that he knew the best eats better than Louis and Stan, but they didn’t seem to mind: happy to “just go wherever”.

Harry contributed less to the conversation than anybody else, opting to just stand and watch and listen more than anything else.

Before long they were set off down the beach, Harry sauntering behind the other three.

He watched the beach underneath his feet and he took in the palms and the crystal water and the birds sat in the trees and flying through the air. He watched the back of Louis until Louis turned around to smile at him, standing still momentarily and letting Stan and Niall continue until he was in line with Harry, resuming walking in-step with the curly haired boy with nothing but a small smile.

When they arrived at the restaurant, they found it was not dissimilar to the main one that Harry and Niall always ate at in terms of style, but it was a lot more open and wasn’t contained by a roof.

Simple dark wood tables and bar-like stools were spread across the sand out in the open.

There would have been no more than ten sets of tables and chairs and only half were occupied. The boys found and sat around one of the spare tables on the opposite side: it was right on the edge, closest to the water.

“So, where are you from, Niall?” Louis began while they all sat down and, well, it didn’t really stop for the next two hours.  
The four boys laughed and talked over a couple of rounds of beers and an a few bowls of chips and a burger each, exchanging stories about their own lives and becoming better acquainted.

They all gelled quite well, Harry thought.

Niall seemed to find every single, little thing that Louis said absolutely hilarious, Louis loved the attention and Stan and Niall just ended up talking about football.

Stan told them the story of how him and Louis are childhood friends from Doncaster who came here for a holiday, learned to surf and never left, but Harry had already heard that story.

Harry repeated his own story for Stan’s benefit and Niall told his own.

Harry found out that he has quite a few mutual musical interests with Louis and that Niall plays guitar and that Louis sings and that Stan “only listens, can’t play or sing.”

It feels right and it feels comfortable to be sitting with the group and talking nonsense, but Stan and Louis admit that they had best be going, as they have a dinner to get to with another group of mates.

Harry offers a small wave to the both of them and Niall offers them a hug and slap across the back.

“Message me if you want to hang out again,” Louis adds, directing it at Harry and referring to earlier when he had added himself to Harry’s mobile phone. “See you ‘round lads.”

And then it was just Niall and Harry again: Niall giving an all-knowing look and Harry maybe kind of wishing that he could message Louis to do more than just hang out… to be more than just another mate.  


 

 

  
+++

 

  
Harry wakes up the next morning with familiar headache that could be caused by a mixture of two things and two things only: alcohol and Niall Horan.

He groaned, forcing his eyes to remain closed and flung himself out across the rest of his bed.

“Ooft, fuck off Harry,” Niall grumbled groggily beside him and Harry jumped up immediately.

“What are you doing in my bed?” Harry removed himself from the bed, thanking some higher being that he had been too drunk to take his clothes off last night and sleep naked.

“Don’t worry, mate,” the blonde rolled over, picking up a spare pillow and putting it over his head, muffling the rest of his words slightly. “I don’t swing that way. We didn’t fuck, I just passed out here.”

Harry absorbed Niall’s words and he started to calm down. What a relief.

“What time is it? Is there still breakfast?”

Harry laughed, “It’s nine-thirty, you’ve still got an hour… I can’t believe you’re even thinking about food right now,” he picked up a towel and headed towards the bathroom, “I feel dreadful.”

“Always mate, absolutely always. I feel pretty shite meself, but something greasy could definitely help.”

Harry sighed, because Niall started getting out of bed and he was positive that he would be dragged to breakfast and sat in front of a monstrous plate of eggs and meats soon.

“I’m going to have a shower, you go clean up and I’ll meet you out front to go to breakfast in ten,” and he closed the bathroom door behind him.

He didn’t look as bad as he thought he would when he caught his reflection. Sure, his eyes looked tired and his hair was a bird’s nest, but he still looked okay. His skin had deepened in colour, his usually imperfect complexion had cleared from the sun and the salt water and he looked healthier and happier than he had in a long time.

It felt nice to be back. Maybe everything really was going to be okay.

He removed his clothes and stepped under the warm water of the shower and rested his head against the cool, brown tiles. The water slipped through his hair and over his shoulders, cascading down his back and onto the smooth, white shower floor.

His head still felt unsteady from the previous night’s beers, but his heart didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

His stomach didn’t turn when he saw the small cross tattooed on his thumb from the day that Zayn had gotten inked and Harry wanted to be included. His teeth didn’t clench when he so much of thought of his name and the pain that had been accompanying so many of his memories seemed to go down the drain with the shampoo and sand from his hair.

Feeling infinitely better, Harry turned off the water and stepped out of the bathroom. He quickly threw on a pair of black board shorts, an unbuttoned button-up flannel shirt, a pair of thongs, his sunglasses and a hat and opened the door to a suddenly perky Niall.

The set off down the slightly winding, stone footpath to the breakfast bar where Niall, unsurprisingly towered a plate sky-high of eggs, sausages, bacon and French toast, while Harry surprisingly filled a plate with a smaller portion of the same kind of foods.

Niall was right: the greasy food was good. Coupled with Harry’s advice of mixing fatty foods with a fresh fruit juice for a “miracle hangover cure”, the two boys felt infinitely better by the time they had finished eating and by the time that Harry dipped his toes in the hotel pool, he felt pretty bloody fantastic.

His friend, not quite as graceful (or considerate, even) as he, ran right off the ledge of the pool, curling himself into a ball mid-air to make as big of a splash as he could manage.

The cool water went every which way, wetting Harry almost comically in the process, but when the blonde resurfaced, they only laughed at one another.

Harry slid delicately into the blue, blue chlorinated water and paddled gently and aimlessly around the pool.

Niall splashed about and waded beside him, maintaining a steady conversation of stories from home, stories from last night and plans for the nights they hadn’t had yet.

It was just over an hour before Niall got bored of following Harry in circles and started craving the company and excitement of new people, swimming across to a sun-kissed group of girls with cocktails in hand and striking up a conversation with ease and before long Niall and the girls were calling Harry to come over.

From there it was less than ten minutes before he grew tired of their high-pitched American accents saying his name more like “Hairy” than “Harry” and Niall’s shameless flirting, so he politely excused himself.

He paddled slowly across to the shallower end of the pool, letting his feet stand on the pebbly pool bottom when the water became shallow enough. As he walked up the stairs and set foot on the sandstone pavers surrounding the pool he drew in a sharp breath from the shock of the heat burning the bottoms of his feet.

Half hopping, half jogging, he made his way over to the sun beds that Niall and he had claimed earlier that morning. He took his iPod and headphones out of his backpack that he’d stored away under the chair and laid himself back, closing his eyes and pressing his thumb down on the play button.

He tapped his feet to the beat, drummed his fingers against the warming skin that stretched over his hips and stomach, his lips silently mouthing some of the lyrics and allowing himself to doze off somewhere between songs.  


 

 

 

 

 

Being sat on wasn’t the nicest way to be woken up.

The air was forced out of Harry’s lungs from the weight on his chest and stomach and his eyes flew open. He simultaneously managed to pull his headphones out of his ears and push Niall off of him whilst flailing his legs and gasping for air.

Talk about a literal rude awakening.

“You’re such an asshole,” Harry muttered as he finally got the chance to rub his eyes and wake up properly.

The sun wasn’t as high in the endless blue sky as it had been when he fell asleep, but without checking his phone he was sure that he had been asleep for no longer than an hour or so: they still had the afternoon and the night.

“You’re the one sleeping on one of my last few days,” Niall rebutted.

Oh yeah, Harry remembered. It was Niall’s third last full day of his holiday and it hadn’t really hit him yet, or either of them to be fair.

In fairness, it was never going to hit Niall. He was such a ‘take it as it comes’ kind of bloke, Harry was sure that he’d just wake up on the day of his flight, pack and piss off and just go with the flow of whatever he was doing or wherever he was.

Harry, however, wasn’t sure what his little holiday would be without his new mate.

A lot quieter, that’s for sure, and as much as Harry craved to be not woken up by the knocks at the door and the chirps of an Irish accent every morning and being literally dragged to breakfast… everything he’d done had been with Niall.

All the surfing lessons, night at the bars, days by the pool, lunches, breakfasts, dinners. They had become quite well acquainted and, more importantly, had become close enough mates to be happy to spend a lot of time in and around each others' space.

“Shut up,” Harry playfully shoved Niall’s bare chest and threw his legs over the side of the sunbed to stand up, “We’ve still got three days.”

“I know,” the blonde waited for Harry to stand up then started in to walk in two behind him: an excited (or maybe impatient) skip in his step like a five year old just being told they were going to go get ice-cream or a new toy from the shops. “I just want something to do, Harry, I’m bored.”

"And I’m not your babysitter.”

Harry wasn’t being rude or dismissive, he just found that carelessly dismissing half of what Niall says was the best way to not find him incredibly annoying.

Harry was quite aware the boy had the potential to be a right pain in the ass, but he knew how to handle him and there was something so endearingly innocent and unaware about him that Harry just accepted it as his personality.

“Okay smartarse, but what are we doing tonight?” Niall practically bounced in front of him, eyes wide at the prospect of socialising even more.

“Uh,” Harry scratched lightly at the mat of tight curls at the nape of his neck, “I guess we could go to the bar? I could ask Kate to come? You’d like her.”

“She sounds like the girl of my dreams,” Niall fluttered his eyelashes theatrically.

“You don’t know anything about- never mind. She’s blonde, about yay high,” he indicated her height with his hand, “and she loves a drink. She lives here, she’s hot for a girl... you’ll like her, trust me.”

Niall patted his friend on the back, laughing and telling him that he needed little to no more convincing.

“What about tomorrow?”

Harry sighed, “What about tomorrow?”

“Well, what are we doing?”

The taller, brunette boy rolled his eyes and took a seat back by the pool, dangling his feet in the water.

“I’ll work it out later, but for now… quiet,” Harry closed his eyes just as Niall sat himself beside him.

Much to his surprise, Niall remained relatively silent (small conversations and observations aside) as they spent the rest of the afternoon completely relaxed and alternating between slipping into the cool water and basking in the hot sun.

 

 

 

  
+++

 

  
Harry admired the bright red skin on his chest in the bathroom mirror. He prodded it experimentally, watching the colour dissipate and the white of his skin return briefly before the red came flooding back bringing with it a sharp, itchy pain.

It was his own fault for falling asleep in the sun. Harry thought that with the amount of time he’d been spending in a harsh, unfamiliar sun, that he was lucky to have avoided sunburn for six days so far considering his British heritage and the heliophobic skin that came with that.

He winced and squirmed his way into a white cotton V-neck, shoved his hotel key card in his pocket along with his wallet and phone and trekked off to meet Niall and Kate at the bar.

The two had never met, but Harry was keen for them to. He knew that they would get along well and he knew that Niall would most likely think she was gorgeous, but he was also kind of hoping that she would think something special of Niall.

He thought of it as a loud, Irish apology gift.

An ‘I’m sorry I led you on for my own amusement and I’m glad we’re friends now. Please accept the possibly indecent, though well intended, comments and affections of my friend.’

He though about presenting Niall to her with a bow on his head and a gift tag pinned to him that read, “My gift to you. Please forgive me, - H”, but that would be ridiculous and obvious and hilarious, but mostly ridiculous.

The bar was already in full swing as the very last of the sun disappeared below the horizon, taking with it all the light it had turned into a beautiful array of purples and oranges.

He hadn't told Kate about Niall, so he linked arms silently with a confused Kate near the door and led her directly and wordlessly across the floor to a bench with beers and Niall.

“Niall, this is Kate,” Harry introduced, “Kate, Niall.”

Niall hopped off his stool and took her hand, kissing it and curtseying and earning a little giggle from her.

“Lovely t’ meet you,” Niall added to his display, “How’d you find this one Harry? I spend all day at the pool looking for gorgeous girls. You’re not even into them and you stumble across them.”

“Kate works here, well… at the restaurant.”

“Does she now? We should eat there more often Haz.”

He playfully winked at Kate, before asking the both of them if they wanted drinks. Kate ordered something girly, fruity and pink and Harry ordered a couple of shots because what the hell.

“He’s charming,” Kate started after Niall had gone. “In a funny way. Like, he’s full on, he’s over the top, but he’s great.”

“Glad you think so,” Harry lowered his voice to a whisper when he saw the blonde walking back towards them with a tray of god knows what. “He’s always like this, it’s crazy. I don’t know where he gets his energy from… Just smile and cheer and if you get tired don’t feel bad about leaving, he’ll just party with someone new.”

Kate smiled at his suggestion before plastering on a look of pure excitement when Niall placed the pink drink that was bigger than her head on the table in front of her.

Harry was presented with three shots of tequila, a lemon, salt, two shots of vodka and a beer.

“Look, mate…”

“It’s okay,” Niall interrupted, “drink what you can, I’ll have the rest.”

They all raised their glasses and called out a very loud “Cheers!”, their glasses clinked and Niall winked at Kate and Kate giggled around her straw and that was the last thing that Harry thinks the two of them would have remembered.

Kate did quite a good job to keep up with Niall. Drink for drink and wink for wink, Harry watched with mild inebriation while the two flirted and danced and joked around and clicked perfectly.

Once Harry begun to feel like a third wheel, he kissed Kate on the cheek, whispered to Niall that he doesn’t fuck with her and that she stays safe and he returned to his hotel room to watch Friends on his laptop until he fell asleep to the light breeze easing through the open windows.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put every second Wednesday in your calendar because I'll be updating this fic regularly now... pinky promise. Kisses.

Harry didn’t really want to ask: didn’t really want to know if anything had happened between Kate and Niall the night before. He hadn’t known either one of them for very long at all – not even a week each – but as much as he had hoped something would spark between them, now that it was a possibility he felt a little squeamish at the idea of them in a sexual context.

So he sat across from Niall at breakfast, eyeing his neck for signs and marks, watching his eyes and his lips to see if they glistened and turned into a smirk at the memory of the past night.

“Did you sleep with Kate?” He couldn’t help himself.

Niall spat out the croissant that was already half hanging out of his mouth and burst into a single, loud guffaw.

“Nah, she’s great and she’s super hot, but nah,” the blonde boy shook his head, chuckles present through his words.

“Why not then?”

A weird relief briefly flushed through Harry before he turned to a general curiosity. He picked up a banana from the table he and Niall had covered in their hangover-busting, five course breakfast from the decedent and colourful buffet. He peeled the banana and took a bite, all while cocking his head slightly to the side and waiting for Niall to unfurrow his brows and decide exactly why he wasn’t interested in her that way.

“She’s too much like me, maybe,” Niall finally decided upon, “I think we’d be better mates. Eh, you know, maybe somewhere down the track… but I barely know the girl.”

“True.”

Niall leant back in his chair – finally sated with what he had eaten, “She’s a laugh though. We ended up getting everybody in the bar to go outside and have a handstand competition on the beach. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen about fifty people absolutely pissed off their arses trying to do handstands on a beach at three o’clock in the morning –”

Niall pointed his finger at Harry, moving closer and lowering his voice to make what he was about to say next seem like it was upmost importance, “ but it is fantastic.”

Harry laughed incredulously at the thought of the scenario and Niall laughed at his memories of it, although Harry wasn’t sure how much he would have remembered of it.

“So what’s the plan today Mr Tour Guide Harry?” Niall moved on.

“Well,” Harry pulled out a bunch of pamphlets he’d grabbed from reception and displayed them neatly on the table much to Niall’s amusement, “we can… what?”

Niall was laughing to himself, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he explained.

“Shut up.”

Harry picked up the closest brochure and threw it half-heartedly at the boy sitting opposite him.

“This will do!” Niall announced.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Niall opened the bright green brochure and skimmed over the large, bold words, not bothering to read the finer details of the activity.

“This will do. We can go on this hike today!”

“No thank you, I can’t walk in a straight line let alone up and down hills and over rivers.”

Harry shook his head, sending his hair flying all over the place.

“YES!” The blonde was suddenly incredibly enthusiastic, “Yes, Harry this is perfect. This will be so fun and we get exercise out of it and it’s a nice day and you picked up the bloody brochure from reception it’s your own damn fault.”

Niall placed one hand on his hip, the other out in front of him, waving a finger at Harry and put an authoritative voice on; “Now put on your hiking shoes and I’ll meet you in half an hour at reception.”

There was no question or reasoning and Harry decided that it would be quite nice to see all of the beautiful forestry around them and get some more fresh air into his lungs.

With a resigning sigh, he placed his napkin on the table and shoved his chair back before standing up and heading back towards his hotel room. He watched the back of his friend get smaller as he ran – skipped – off ahead of him: maintaining his title as Most Enthusiastic Human Ever.

Hiking boots were not something that Harry had though to pack or even something that he owned, so he just threw on the only runners he had. They were bright, neon yellow Nikes and he figured that if he got lost in the jungle he could just lay on his back, throw his legs in the air and use his feet to signal for help.

He had packed clothes for the gym, thinking that he would have all spare time in the world, because he never expected that he’d make a friend – let alone a couple.

He gave himself a once over in the mirror of the bathroom and after giving his bright runners, white basketball shorts, white t-shirt and wrist and head sweatbands the tick of approval, he grabbed his phone and a water bottle out of the mini bar and jogged to reception.

“You look like an idiot,” was Niall’s lovely welcome.

“Thanks.” Harry mumbled. He always took everything quite seriously, but he was also a bit loopy somehow and so he always ended up being the weird kid. The guy that dressed up like an elite tennis player to go hiking while his mate was wearing shorts made of sweatpants material, nondescript jogging shoes, a basketball jersey and a matching snapback.

Niall looked like the cool, sporty kid and Harry looked like the unaccustomed, overcompensating freak.

Harry knew he was overthinking the situation and that he probably wasn’t a freak, just a little different, but it was something he was always aware of.

Niall seemed to not think this or care at all, calling Harry across and running off laughing to the starting point of the hike at the foothills.

“Good luck to us both,” Niall gave a salute and begun up the dauntingly steep steps that Harry was sure were only the beginning of worse to come.

Damn brochure.

Although, as much as Harry spent most of the time watching where he was walking and trying to keep up with Niall, the hike was incredible.

The stairs that they first encountered seemed to go on for miles, weaving their way up and through vibrants greens and beautiful old trees full of birds and low-lying shrubs and plants and branches that were home to bugs he had never seen before and butterflies in colours he hadn’t yet seen on them.

The forest was completely alive and it made Harry feel the same way.

Keeping up with Niall wasn’t just a struggle in terms of pace and ability to not fall over as well; it was a test of Harry’s fitness to climb thousands of stairs and cross mildly terrifying bridges whilst maintaining conversation.

“Did you try and set me and Kate up?” Niall pulled out of nowhere, while they both walked across a suspended wooden bridge. The forest floor was a mere ten metres under them, but Harry was still mildly unnerved. He held on to the wooden hand rail and thanked God for the rope mesh creating walls either side of the bridge, while Niall spoke with his hands: completely comfortable with their current height above ground.

“No – well, I thought maybe you might get along and…” Harry resigned, “yeah a little bit.”

Niall let out an unnecessarily loud laugh that seemed to echo off the trees. Harry always thought he laughed much harder and much louder than what was called for.

“Thanks mate,” Niall finally noted, “Let me know if you want me to set you up with anyone to return the favour.”

He turned around when he reached the end of the bridge and bowed at Harry, holding his hand out in front of him as if to say he was at Harry’s service.

Harry just laughed and pushed him out of the way. Niall theatrically toppled and both of them cracked up.

“Aren’t you gonna help me up, ya bastard?” Niall called after the back of his friend.

Harry’s response was a simple finger in the air as he kept walking, smiling to himself and knowing that Niall would catch up.

Before he had walked twenty metres, he heard heavy, running footsteps and was shoved aside as Niall reassumed front position.

The continued to walk and walk, talk and laugh. They trekked up and down massive hills where the greenery seemed to envelop everything. Every tree seemed to have more leaves than normal, the plants smothering themselves and overflowing to create a blanket of green through the whole forest.

They finally stopped for a break and a drink at the top of a hill. The scenery was surreal. Harry couldn’t believe the view when they stepped out of the greenery and onto a giant, flat, treeless cliff top. There was at least twenty metres of just grass that overlooked the sparkling blue and the white sand of an empty, seemingly untouched beach. They could see other, smaller islands off in the distance and the sky was paradisically without clouds and, well, views didn’t get much better then this.

It was completely silent, except for the rustling of the nearby trees in the light breeze and the sound of Niall trawling through his backpack for packets of chips and the pop of him opening his sports drink bottle.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Niall noted and, to be honest, Harry was surprised he’d noticed.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, taking it all in, “what a special place…”

The blonde boy shoved his food and drink back into his backpack and threw it back over his shoulder.

“Way too special for me,” he laughed as he began back on the hike trail.

Harry sighed and followed his friend, noting that with the right, special someone, it could be the most beautiful place in the world.

They saw a lot of ‘most beautiful place in the world’s that hike though, stopping again at the top of another cliff and also at the most breathtaking waterfall and lagoon with walls made of green and trees and beautiful black stones mixed in with white sand.

By the time the got back to the starting – and apparently also finishing – point of the trail, both of them were covered in sweat from the humidity in the forest, legs aching and all worn out.

“That was incredible.”

“Yeah… but for what price,” Niall replied, “my legs are fucking killing me.”

Harry chuckled and clapped him on the back; “Let’s get you home and rested.”

 

 

+++

 

 

They were lazily swimming in the pool when Niall suggested that they go scuba diving. Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing; reminding his friend that a mere hour ago he was screaming to have his legs amputated.

He’d never told Harry, but apparently he had a bad knee and it was “hurting like a c–“, well, Harry wasn’t quiet comfortable with the word Niall used to associate his pain.

The guy had clearly made a miraculous recovery though, because he was toweling himself off by the edge of the pool and ordering Harry to do the same.

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to; it was just that he couldn’t believe Niall’s turnaround.

Harry jumped out of the pool, wrapping a towel around his waist. He picked up his discarded shorts and his phone from a pool chair and trotted off to reception to ask where they can scuba dive.

The girl at reception told them that they needed to catch a boat out to the reef and that the boat left from only a few hundred metres down the shore.

They bought their tickets at reception, Harry mildly disgruntled that this spontaneous adventure was going to cost a hundred and fifty quid. He reminded himself that he was, in fact, a starving university student and that he shouldn’t let this luxurious resort trick him into thinking otherwise. It was already costing him his savings over the last two years and as nice as this life is – poolside drinking, beautiful boys with beautiful blue eyes and hundred and fifty quid scuba diving trips – it isn’t his full-time life: only a mere glimpse of borderline luxury.

They set off along the beach with their tickets in hand, Harry thinking that maybe shoes would have been a good idea when the hot sand hurt the bottoms of his feet.

Though, the soles of his feet were probably half the temperature of his cheeks when he looked across to the edge of the water and saw Louis standing in shorts rolled up to the very tip tops of his thighs and watching – staring at – Harry with an unreadable expression upon his face.

Harry looked away quickly, but realised that it was childish and silly, so he turned back around and gave Louis a little smile and wave.

Louis lit up automatically, breaking into a grin and waving back enthusiastically. He turned the group of people he was with, saying something to them, before running over to catch up with where Harry and Niall were.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Harry replied.

“How are you?”

They were both smiling and their voices full of excitement. Harry dismissed Louis’ enthusiasm as the excitement of having a new friend.

Niall interjected with a “Hey Lou,” indirectly acknowledging the fact that he had been ignored.

“Oh, hey Niall. What’s up?” Louis started, but didn’t wait for the blonde to reply. “Yeah I’m good Harry.”

And there were those damn butterflies again. Every time Harry’s name passed those damn lips his stomach fluttered a little and, god, was it childish and ridiculous, but he had to allow himself to be a little giddy. When a boy who looks like that says your name, no man or woman would be able to honestly deny feeling a little bit of something. “What are you doing today?”

Harry turned to Louis, who was basically power walking to keep up with Harry’s big strides, “Uhm, we went for a hike today. Which was amazing – beautiful really.”

_Kind of like you._

“And now we’re going for a scuba dive.”

Louis chuckled, “What tourists you’re being.”

“You should come,” Niall adds. Harry turns to him with brows knitted and the blonde gives him a wink and mouths “you’re welcome”.

And somebody really should teach that boy a little something about subtlety, because Harry isn’t looking at Louis right now but he would bet his bottom dollar that Louis saw that.

When Harry turns to Louis, he’s watching the ground ahead of him, holding back a small smile with his teeth grasping his bottom lip and well, that’s…

That’s interesting.

That’s something.

“Yeah, come with us Lou,” Harry adds and the golden boy snaps his head up, but he’s shaking it from side to side.

“I can’t, I’ve got a class in twenty minutes,” and Harry’s not sure if Louis looks as disappointed as Harry feels right now, but he guesses that they’re pretty close. “But I – I can come see you soon. You’ve got my number yeah?”

Harry nods and Louis smiles.

“Send me a message tonight and we’ll organise something…” Louis looks away, possibly looking like he feels he’s coming across a little too enthusiastic. At the time time though, Louis could be jumping up and down, screaming and laughing and asking Harry to marry him and take him right here: right here on the sand… and Harry still wouldn’t think he was too enthusiastic. “I’ve done the scuba diving a few times before anyway, it’s gorgeous. You two have fun yeah?”

Both boys nod and wave Louis off as he walks off back to where his friends are.

Niall and Harry are silent for a little under a minute. They reach the pier, giving the man standing beneath the giant “Scuba diving: HERE” sign their tickets.

“Did I make that up?” Harry asks his friend.

“Make what up, mate?” Niall laughs as they pick up the wetsuits and scuba gear and head to stand where the rest of the groups waits to be taught how to use the equipment in the shallows.

“Louis, just.” _Seemed like he liked me, maybe._ “Never mind.”

Niall shrugged as their instructor told them about the mouthpiece and the oxygen tanks and how much fun it’s going to be, but how they have to take their safety seriously.

Harry sighs. Maybe he was making it up. He was probably looking too far into things, because it was wishful thinking to think that a boy like that would be even into guys let alone into Harry. Or maybe Niall was just exceptionally unobservant as usual.

There was still hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was short and a bit of a filler, but I'm building towards stuff I swear.


	6. Chapter 6

“Who are you texting?” Niall asked with a playful teasing in his voice… the type that little girls have when they find out their friend likes a boy.

It teased Harry pretty well though, because his head snapped up like a deer caught in his headlights.

He looked back down at his phone and mindlessly scrolled through the few messages sent between him and Louis and with a resigned sigh he responded, “Louis.”

Niall walked back from where he’d taken a beer from Harry’s minibar and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Why’d you say it like it’s not the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Niall asked, twisting the top off of his drink with a small grunt followed by a pop.

Harry just shrugged. It _was_ a good thing, it just felt like what Harry wanted and what Harry was probably going to get out of the relationship were not going to be the same thing.

The blonde boy shuffled back to rest his back against the bedhead and grabbed the remote that sat on the wicker and glass bedside table. He turned the television they'd been watching off and turned to his friend with a frown pulling his eyebrows slightly more together. "If you don't want to talk to him, don't text him," Niall noted, "but I thought you did. What are you guys messaging about anyway?"

"Just talking about nothing really," Harry started, "Just like talking about what we're doing and how the scuba diving was this afternoon. I know it sounds stupid, because I don't really know that much about him, I mean we've hung out in groups a couple of times, but it's not like I've known him for weeks and we hang out all the time, you know?"

Harry took a breath and looked briefly at Niall to see that he was nodding and listening before he continued, "I really kind of like him. Well, I guess I like the idea of him at the moment, or maybe I do like him. I guess I don't really know yet, but the odds of someone as evidently amazing as him being into guys and then into _me_..."

He didn't have to say what the odds were. It was a pretty damn slim chance. Harry had fallen, both hard and briefly, for a lot of guys over the years, and out of all of those people only one of them was gay. That was Zayn. Every other guy that he'd ever liked, he'd either not bothered telling or they'd given him the 'look mate, you're great, but I'm not gay'. It was a serious pain, because it just didn't leave a whole lot of fish in the sea. It was like Harry was a shark in that age-old proverbial ocean full of hundreds and thousands of beautiful, delicious fish, but he was in a perplex box with five fish and that was all he had to choose from to eat for the rest of his life. He just sat there watching all the fish he couldn't eat swim past every day.

"Well, I don't have an exceptional gaydar, but he was definitely blushing today when I invited him to come with us," Niall consoled.

"I asked you about that, but you said you didn't notice anything!"

Niall shrugged, "Sorry mate. I mustn't have known what you were talking about, but yeah, when I asked him - you're welcome by the way - he was smiling at the ground and corny shit like that."

Harry looked at Niall disbelievingly. He was so sure that he had caught Louis being shy and excited and blushing, but he also hadn't been sure at all. It was nice to have it confirmed, not just because that was definitely something of interest, but nice to know he wasn't imagining things after all.

"About that..." Harry started. Thinking back to earlier with Louis he'd remembered something he had told himself to talk to his friend about, "You are so unsubtle, it's crazy. You could have got me kicked in the balls or worse - rejected."

Niall laughed, slapping the top of his thigh to add to his cackling. The boy always laughed with his whole body, his head threw back before he doubled over and he was known to stamp his feet, clap and slap his thighs as well. Harry thought his clapping his hand over his mouth was odd before he met Niall, but now he felt completely at ease with his level of laughter and its appropriateness to situations.

"Like I said... you're welcome," Niall offered, earning him a pouting Harry and a little punch to the shoulder. When that was enough and Niall was still chuckling, Harry leaned across to shove him forcefully enough with two hands to push him off the bed and onto the ground.

It just made the boy now on the floor laugh harder. Harry cracked a grin at that too.

Once they both calmed down a little, Niall had returned to his spot on the bed and silence had re-enveloped the room, Niall sighed and clapped his hand on Harry's closest knee supportively.

"If you like him, or think you'd like him if you got to know him, then you should hang out with him by yourselves. It's worth a shot hey? Honestly what do you have to lose," and he had a point because in one week Harry would leave the island and never return or see Louis again if he didn't want to, so even if he screwed up spectacularly with Louis, it wouldn't really matter in the long run. "I leave in what, two days? Yeah, well, one and a half. You should text him and ask him to go for a swim or a surf or lunch or a drink or something."

Niall always surprised Harry. He was this loud, exuberant, borderline belligerent person, but when you needed him he was there. He hadn't known Harry for more than a week, but he was there for him and he was stepping in as the supportive, logical friend that Harry honestly always needed.

He had a point too - a really good one now that Harry really thought about it. He needed to let go of the idea that he was going to be able to find someone to replace Zayn in an easy few weeks, that he could just slip into a serious, loving relationship with someone. He really had nothing to lose.

His memory took him back to when he was fifteen years old, crying in his bedroom because the boy at school didn't like him back. His mum had walked into the room and found him puffy eyed and curled up on his bed. She hadn't asked who or what had happened: she just knew. She sat on the edge of his bed and stroked his back and his hair and told him, "You have to kiss a few frogs, Harry. One day, one of them will turn into your prince."

He thought Zayn had been his prince, but he was clearly wrong. Zayn was just another a frog. Maybe Louis was his prince, maybe he wasn't, but there was no harm in trying.

Niall turned the television back on and immediately broke into a grin, focusing on whatever sitcom it was that he'd turned on to: Harry didn't recognize it. 

He picked up his phone out of his lap and replied to Louis' messaging asking what he was doing now.

 

**Just sitting in my room and watching tv with Niall! He's going home in two days :(**

 

It was no more than five seconds before a little speech bubble appeared to indicate Louis had started replying.

 

_That sucks !!! What will you do with him !!_

 

**I'll need a new friend :) Know anyone?**

 

_No sorry !!! Guess you'll be all by yourself.._

 

**You suck.**

 

_Actually I might be free if you were really really desperate_

 

**I don't think I'd ever be that desperate ;) We should hang out though soon. Let me know when you're not busy teaching tourists how to stand on bits of wood.**

 

_Rude !! That'd be awesome :) I will !! I'm going to bed now though, goodnight Harry xx_

 

**Goodnight Louis. x**

 

Harry slipped his phone away, he didn't need it anymore now that Louis was asleep. He faced the television and settled in for a night of banter and beer and tacky programs with Niall, but there was a smile on his lips - a smile from talking to Louis, a smile from the kisses at the end of his last message, a smile from Louis saying them catching up would be 'awesome'.

Nothing to lose and everything to gain.

 

 

+++

 

Niall's last full day is spent lazing around the pool and the surf, migrating to the bar for drinks and shelter from the sun every hour or so. They talked about what Niall was going to do when he got back home. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go back to his old job or whether he wanted to find something new.

He told Harry that the pub he's been working at is just not a nice place to be. It's dirty, dark, the manager is horrible and the pay's even worse. Harry asked him what he would want to do instead and Niall shrugged and said he just wanted to play music.

"Maybe you should go to uni and study music or something?" Harry suggested, "You could go to the same university as me, that would be awesome!"

Niall had laughed and agreed that as cool as that would be, furthering his education wasn't something he was really into the idea of and that maybe just getting a job at a studio and playing some gig nights would be a good idea.

The day was hot, hotter than those Harry had experienced so far. The sun was piercing and Harry's skin, despite having worked up a pretty good tolerance in a short amount of time, wore a red tinge at the end of the day.

He woke up early the next morning so that he and Niall could enjoy as much time as they could together before Niall had to leave for the airport. He sat up in his bed, twisting and cracking his back and wincing at the soreness of his skin. His skin felt tight and tender and when he shoved the mosquito net out of the way and sauntered into the bathroom, his reflection in the mirror showed that he'd been replaced with a bright red version of himself.

Harry put on a white t-shirt that covered his shoulders and back from any more sun damage, a hat for further sun protection and a pair of shorts. He also trawled through the mini-toiletries that the hotel supplied and found a small tube of moisturiser that gave his poor skin a slight bit of relief.

He picked up his sunglasses and a piece of paper he'd written his phone number and address on for Niall and wandered down to the breakfast hut.

As he walked out of his room it was like the Gods were on his side, because he could already tell that today wasn't going to be as hot as the previous day. When he reached the breakfast area, there was a little table just to the right as you walk in that was there every morning and it displayed a weather forecast for the day.

It was going to be a cooler 28 degrees Celsius: partly cloudy in the afternoon, possible storms in the evening.

Harry used to hate storms when he was younger. He didn't understand where the sound of the thunder came from and the lightning was so frightening he used to hide under his sheets and cry himself to sleep if the storm didn't stop. Now he was older and knew that the storm couldn't hurt him he really actually enjoyed them. He liked the smell, the heavy rain, the sound of the thunder rumbling, the awe and wonderment of an amazing lightning flash: there was something incredibly calming about a big storm.

He was really looking forward to that storm now.

"Shit weather for my last day, hey?" Niall started when Harry located him and sat opposite him for their last breakfast.

Last breakfast. Last day. Harry really was sad to see him go and it was really just starting to sink in. He wasn't quite sure what this place would be like without Niall. He was almost certain that without the other boy to keep him company he would have become incredibly bored with nobody but himself for company. Harry was sure that they would meet up once they were both back in London - this didn't feel like a temporary friendship.

"I was just thinking how nice it's going to be to sit on my deck and watch the storm tonight, actually," Harry noted.

"All by yourself," Niall added and both boys frowned, "This sucks man, I don't want to go back. Fuck this I want to stay and hang out with you and continue to eat Nutella croissants and more bacon, sausage and eggs than I could ever dream of."

Harry laughed briefly, but what started as a chuckle ended as a sigh. It sure was going to be quiet without him and Harry wasn't so sure he wanted that quiet anymore. Niall was too much fun, always making him laugh and smile and forget about whatever it was that was bothering him - whether it was his own insecurities or the sadness he still felt for his relationship with Zayn.

Harry excused himself to go and grab some breakfast of his own. He returned a few minutes later with some muesli and eggs on toast.

"So what did you want to do with your final few hours?" he asked Niall as he sat back down at the table,

"Well, I've gotta pack, so you can watch me do that and then I want to just wander around." He picked up a piece of sausage and popped it into his mouth, continuing as he chewed, "Nothing exciting."

Harry wore a faux expression of shock, "I'm disappointed Niall."

To which he earned a shrug.

They continued the rest of their breakfast and sat talking and watching the clouds start to roll in over the horizon. After half an hour, Niall decided that he really should go pack, so they left the breakfast area and went back to Niall's room.

It was at that point that Harry realised he hadn't yet been in Niall's hotel room. It was almost identical to Harry's, just flipped the other way around: the bed was on the other side, the door to the bathroom on the other side. It contained the same furniture, artwork and view as Harry's, which is not surprising considering Harry's room is a mere thirty metres away.

Harry was expecting that Niall would be the kind of guy to throw everything into his suitcase and then sit on it to make it fit so he could zip it up, but he watched in awe as the boy neatly folded and stacked every item of clothing into his bag. Even his shoes went in neatly, his socks rolled, his hats stacked together. It was almost funny how much it really didn't match his personality.

Although, when Harry really thought about it there wasn't particularly a golden rule that your personality correlates directly to the way you pack a suitcase. Someone should research that.

"Have you ever heard of the random things people are Doctors of and have PhD's in?" Harry asked trivially.

"No I haven't," Niall shouts out from the bathroom where he's most likely packing all the little free goodies you get in the bathrooms like shampoo and shower caps and conveniently sized sewing kits. "Enlighten me, Harold."

"Well, I read somewhere that at some university in America you can do a degree in Bowling Management or something. Like, you actually learn about setting up the pins and bowling alley stuff. Or I read some others where people study degrees in like puppets and the Beatles and circuses... It's crazy."

Niall laughed as he walked back into the room, toiletries bag packed and in hand, "How do you know this shit?"

Harry shrugs.

"I love it," Niall adds endearingly.

He lays his toiletries bag on top of his full suitcase and looks around the room to check he hasn't missed anything. Once he's satisfied that all of his belongings are in his bag, he closes the lid on his bag, sits on it to push it down and zips it up. Harry smiles and really does think that someone should study bag zipping and packing and personalities, maybe he's onto something.

Niall stands up from his bag once it's closed and pulls out the handle, pulling it to sit just by the door. He turns around to Harry with wide eyes and a serious face and says, "Gift shop."

Harry laughs when Niall beckons him and explains that he really wants to check out the gift shop. He only has an hour left.

As they're walking to shop that's located just near the reception, Harry's phone lets out a sound from his back pocket and when he takes it out he sees it's a message from Louis.

 

_What are you doing right now?_

 

Harry lets a smile settle in on his lips as he taps out a response.

 

**Niall's dragging me to the gift shop. Meet us there in five minutes?**

 

"Is that your boyfriend?" Niall teases. Harry punches him lightly and that's response enough.

 

_Yep :)_

 

Harry explains to Niall that although Louis is most definitely _not_ his boyfriend, he is meeting them at the gift shop and that Niall needs to stay cool and be subtle, because Harry'll be damned if he has to spend the next six days with no Niall _and_ no Louis, because the blonde scared him off. Nope, not happening.

By the time that the pair make it to the shop - Niall stopped every twenty metres to take a photo of something for memories' sake - Louis is already standing out the front. He's in a grey and white singlet and soft blue denim shorts that roll up at the bottom where they sit just above his knees and he's barefoot. He's looking down at something on his phone, his hair falling over his face.

"Hey Lou!" Niall calls out as they get closer and Harry swallows the lump in his throat when Louis looks up, because _damn_.

"Hey Niall! Happy last day," Louis pulls him in for a one armed hug and Harry likes that Niall gets along with everyone and makes all situations comfortable, especially right now when Harry feels momentarily like a bundle of nerves.

"Harry," Louis tips a hat he's not wearing, but doesn't pull him in for a hug.

Harry curtsies in response, "Louis."

"After you," Louis continues his gentlemanly charade and motions for Harry and Niall to enter the gift store.

It's full of crap if Harry is completely honest.

There are little surfboards or keyrings, postcards, shot glasses with palm trees on them. There are necklaces with shark teeth on them and woven and leather bracelets.

Harry and Louis stand back while Niall whizzes around the store, picking up every second thing. If he buys everything he's picked up, Harry's almost certain that once he gets home it will be less than a month before most of it is in a bin somewhere.

"He's a laugh," Louis notes.

"He really is," Harry agrees, "I'm gonna miss him. Wasn't really sure what I was planning to do here by myself for two weeks. Obviously it's beautiful and warm and I can sit by the pool and do nothing, but I'm glad I made a friend so I've got someone to share it with. It's gonna be lonely now."

Louis slings an arm around Harry's shoulder and beams up at him, "You've got me still!"

"That I do, but..." Harry stops mid-sentence, "are you on your tippy-toes?"

Louis looks down to his feet and yes, yes he is on his toes. Harry is quite a bit taller than him and he really likes it. He likes that Louis has to get on his toes to put an arm around him, that Louis would have to get on his toes to kiss him and, woah.

"Shut up," Louis takes his arm back from around Harry and Harry feels instantly empty. That is until Louis crosses his arms across his chest and pouts and Harry feels warm again, "It's not my fault you're six foot eight."

"Six foot one," Harry corrects. "What are you then... five nine?"

Louis pokes his tongue out and tells Harry that no, no he's not five nine, but he is actually five _eight_ and would prefer if they moved on to a less depressing topic.

  
Niall interrupts from the other side of the store at that moment, requesting immediate help.

"I can't decide," he whinges when Harry and Louis walk over to him. The Irish boy is holding in his hand two bracelets. Both are woven cotton, one is a bright blue and the other a black with red through it. Harry prefers the bright blue and doesn't ask himself why when he looks Louis in the eyes and asks him how he could possibly like the black one more.

"Well what else is there?" Niall groans.

Harry looks at the display of bracelets and necklaces and there really isn't much else. There are plain bracelets, like the ones Niall chose, and then there are really bright, rainbow ones and then there are simple strings with silver pendants on them. The necklaces all have the same pendants on them as the bracelets do. There are little silver surfboards, suns, dragonflies and shark teeth.

None of them seem like anything Niall would want.

"I like the blue one best," Harry concludes.

Niall agrees, nodding his head a few too many times before scurrying off to pay for the bracelet, a tacky surfboard keyring and a few snow-globes with beaches in them, which Harry isn't going to say anything about.

"I think you've made a mistake Harry, I liked the black one," Louis jokingly challenges, "It was really cool."

Harry faces Louis and makes sure he has complete eye contact before he says, "Blue's my favourite colour."

He lets his gaze linger in Louis' eyes for a few heartbeats after, before he nonchalantly drops his gaze. He never used to think blue was his favourite colour, but for some reason, just that second, he realised that it was.

Louis lets out a breath he was holding and his cheeks tinge slightly red and maybe red is another one of Harry's favourites now too.


	7. Chapter 7

Louis stood back while Niall and Harry said their final goodbyes.

Niall's bags had been packed into the back of the taxi and the driver was waiting in the front seat impatiently. A single crack of thunder echoed from way out over the ocean while Niall threw his arms around Harry to hug him farewell.

The new friends knew that it was only a matter of days before they were reunited - Harry only had five more days left of his holiday - so the goodbye was more of a 'see you soon'.

Although, it still felt sad. Harry had grown so accustomed to the boy that it was going to be so odd without him around. It was going to be quiet, that was for sure, but Harry didn't want that. His apartment back home in London was quiet; he'd come here to avoid the quiet. 

Niall broke away from the hug, smiling at the two boys, taking one last look at the hotel front and slid into the backseat of the cab.

Louis stepped back towards Harry now that he wasn't going to find himself in the way and they both watched and laughed as Niall unwound his window and poked his head out, shaking his head and his tongue while he made a "blaaaaugh" sound.

Harry sighed when the cab pulled out onto the main road and out of sight and Louis looked up at him expectantly, not wanting to start suggesting they hang out and go have fun in case Harry was really upset.

But Harry lit up like someone had flicked a switch and he beamed down at Louis all dimples and teeth, "Now what?"

He really wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon with Louis, he hoped to God that Louis didn't have to teach this afternoon. He really didn't want to be alone and he really wanted to spend more time with the blue eyed beauty and get to know him a little better.

"Whatever you want to do, young Harold," Louis offered, "What were your plans for this afternoon without me?"

Harry scratched his head. He didn't really have plans, because he had always planned on spending the afternoon with Louis.

Another distant rumble of thunder and a heavy gust of wind gave Harry an idea though, "I was just going to watch the storm actually. Do you know any cool spots we could watch it? If you want?"

Louis pouted his lips and creased his forehead, tapping a finger against his lightly stubbled chin in thought. He clearly hadn't shaved this morning or even maybe for a few days and Harry thought he looked incredibly sexy with the light dusting of hair - it made him look older. He wondered how it would feel tickling the underside of his jaw while Louis kissed his way down his neck.

Harry fingers twitched by his side, wanting to reach out and touch Louis' face and he was thankful when Louis distracted him by breaking into an unearthly smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him off back towards the hotel.

They made it into the reception and out past the pool before Louis let his hand go. His small hands had been all Harry had been focusing on since they latched onto his long, spiny fingers out the front. Harry flexed his fingers and mentally sighed that they were now holding nothing.

He asked Louis where they were going at least six times, but to no avail. Louis' eyes sparkled something mischievous back at him and he laughed this soft chuckle every time Harry asked. He was a man of mystery and adventure and Harry's chest fluttered even when he realised that their adventure was merely to sit atop a cliff.

It really was quite exquisite though. Louis sat himself down, facing out towards the horizon and Harry stood a few metres behind him and took in the view. To their left was just forest: thick green and palm trees, the smell of wood and water and grass. To their right and down the hill was the resort: luxurious huts and the tops of all the bars and rooms, the pool, the white sand of the beach and the increasingly angry waves rolling onto it. In front of Harry though, the storm clouds were spectacular. Giant pillows of shades of grey and purple were rolling in over the dark, murky water that was usually a crystal clear, electric blue.

Louis' golden hair ruffled in the wind and he turned to look back at Harry, offering him the sweetest of smiles, his lips not quite parting enough to show his teeth.

Harry walked over to sit beside him, aware that Louis' eyes were on him until he was sat right next to him.

"This is so beautiful," Harry commented almost breathlessly.

Another gust of wind pushed Harry's hair across his face and he used his hand to move it aside and tuck it behind his ear. The air was still warm, heavy with heat. It was so humid that Harry was surprised he couldn't just take a sip of the air, he could feel and smell the rain that was probably only half an hour away from hitting them.

It was going to be a spectacular storm.

"We don't usually get weather like this at this time of the year," Louis informs him, "In the tropical seasons though we get huge storms. Cyclones sometimes. It can get pretty bad."

Harry made a silent "wow" with his lips and leaned back to rest on his arms, letting his legs splay out in front of him. He felt so gangly and ungraceful when he looked over at Louis who was seated perfectly cross-legged, perfect posture and hands clasped in his lap.

"But it is pretty beautiful," Louis agreed.

They watched as the strong winds carried the storm closer and closer to them, the rumbles of thunder louder than they were when they first heard them.

"So what are you going to do now that Niall's gone?"

Harry sighed, picking at some grass to his side, "Well it's going to be very boring unless I find someone else to hang out with."

He lifted his gaze to Louis and when Louis shrugged, Harry threw the grass at him to which Louis flailed comically.

"I liked having him around because he distracted me," Harry continued on a more serious note, "I came on this holiday to get away from a breakup. I don't know if I told you -"

Louis nodded, "You did, indirectly."

"- okay, well. Yeah, it was nice to not have to think about that for a bit."

"I'd bet," Louis sympathised and Harry regretted bringing it up, because now the air was heavy with something else other than heat and water, something slightly uncomfortable. "Did you want to talk about it?"

Harry smiled sheepishly at Louis, grateful for the offer and thankful that they broke through that ice.

Did he want to talk about it though? Was it a good idea to tell Louis that he is gay, that he broke up with a guy, that he spent days and weeks on the couch of his apartment eating bowls of cereal and crying?

"Not really. We just drifted apart," Harry buttered, then hesitated, "he just stopped loving me, I guess, not much more to it. But thanks."

Harry studied Louis' face for signs of any reaction at all, but Louis evidently didn't care or had a fantastic poker face. He realised he was staring when Louis pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and turned his head to face out at the ocean again.

That didn't stop Harry from staring though. This boy was so incredibly beautiful in the darkening light. Harry took in his incredibly long eyelashes and the curve of his nose - such feminine features, especially contrasted with the masculine line of his jaw and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

Harry only broke out of what was probably a trance when a dragonfly flew in front of his eyes and landed on Louis' shoulder.

Louis noticed it too, turning only his head so not to scare it away.

It was such a beautiful creature and Harry had never seen one this close before. Its wings were transparent, only the thin black outlines visible and its body was so thin and long, but the most brilliant blue and the deepest black.

Both of them watched, eyes fixated on the insect as it took off from Louis' shoulder and landed on Harry's arm.

"Dragonflies are a symbol of change," Louis mumbled.

Harry jolted when Louis spoke and the dragonfly on his arm was startled and flew away. Harry didn't respond to Louis straight away, watching the bug circle them before flying off towards the thick forest.

"Pardon?" Harry came to.

"Dragonflies are a symbol of change," Louis repeated, flushing a little red. "If they appear in your life, it means that it's time for change. They're a reminder to think about your deepest thoughts and desires and because they don't live very long, you're meant to live your life to the fullest."

Harry cocked his head to the side, smiling at Louis, wondering how he knows all of this.

"There's a lot of spiritual people on this island," Louis explains, answering Harry's unasked question. He sounds embarrassed and his voice is quiet and even though Harry doesn't know him very well, it seems like an unusual emotion on him. He seems vulnerable and as wrong as it seems for someone usually so vibrant and confident, Harry thinks it's the most precious thing he's ever seen. "And a lot of dragonflies, so I just get told all these things and -"

Louis cuts himself off with an awkward laugh.

"I think it's sweet," Harry reassures him.

Another silence falls upon them although this time it's not uncomfortable. It wasn't begging to be broken or full of static and it wasn't loud or heavy.

It was peaceful.

It was tranquil.

The angry clouds were coming closer and closer, the tide below swelling and the waves crashing aggressively against the cliff they were sat upon and Harry was calm.

He was content for the first time since long before Zayn left.

It was a mixture of a lot of things that created that shining moment of serenity. It was the beautiful force of nature, the beautiful scenery, that beautiful dragonfly and the beautiful boy sat beside him.It was the words that Louis had recited about the symbolism of the dragonfly. Harry believed in serendipity, he didn't believe in fate or destiny, but the dragonfly landing on both of them and then Louis telling him that it means that it is time for change - well, that was thought-provoking at the very least and wasn't something that you threw aside as coincidence or chance.

They didn't speak another word until the first drops of rain started falling on them. Harry wished that it wasn't so damn hot, that Louis was cold from the rain and he could offer him a jacket and wrap him up in his arms. But it was still stinking hot and the rain was a welcome relief.

Louis grinned mischievously at Harry and the hair on his head started to soak through and stick to his forehead.

"What?" Harry's tone was worried, worried of what Louis was planning.

The boy jumped to his feet in a burst of energy, "Let's go for a swim!"

He jumped up and down and made grabbing hands at Harry to help him stand up and Harry laughed. He laughed incredulously at how carefree and youthful and endearingly childish Louis was.

Harry wasn't usually one for spontaneous, random acts. He always left that for the class clown types. His comedic value was in bad knock knock jokes and being clumsy, not creating big scenes. Harry got the feeling that Louis would have been the class clown when he was younger, the one whose comedy needs to be performed on a big stage, the one who is always the centre of attention, always the loudest, always the funniest, always popular. Harry liked that Louis was bringing that a little bit out of him as well.

"Sure," Harry let Louis pull him to his feet, "When in Rome... or Fiji."

Louis gave a soft chuckle and then he was off. He ran down the sand covered steps until they were back down on the beach and panting hard, Harry's hand still in his trailing behind him.

Louis only let go to pull his singlet over his head before he grabbed Harry's hand again, which was easy because Harry's hand hadn't actually dropped from when he'd let go of it.

He was too busy watching this boy, watching where their hands met, wondering when physical contact had ever come this easy with another person. It hadn't.

Harry wasn't given time to remove his own shirt, quickly throwing his phone and wallet onto the sand before Louis was pulling him into the ocean. The water wasn't as warm as it usually was, but it still wasn't cold.

Louis let go of Harry's hand only to dive under the water, coming back up with fat water droplets rolling down his chest and the fine dusting of hair in the middle of it, down his defined stomach, the water sparkling against his golden, tanned skin.

He had resurfaced only just long enough to let Harry take him in once from head to wear his hips met the water, before he jumped into Harry's chest, using his hands to push his head under the water.

Harry broke back through the surface, spitting out the water he'd inhaled and coughing while Louis grinned at him from ear to ear, daring him to react.

If Harry knew anything about flirting, Louis was definitely flirting with him and, well, two could play at that game.

Harry lifted his soaked white t-shirt over his head and threw it back on the sand. They were only a few metres from the shore, so shirt now discarded, Harry leaned down and grabbed Louis around the waist, picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder.

Louis kicked and laughed and flailed and Harry reveled at how easy it was for him to lift the smaller boy.

Harry wrapped his arms tight around the other boy's middle and took a big breath before he dropped the both of them into the deeper water.

The rain was coming down relentlessly now, but Harry didn't care if Louis didn't. Who knew dunking someone repeatedly under water would be so fun?

It only took a few minutes of play fighting before they were absolutely knackered though, Louis floating on his back, eyes closed to the swirling clouds above them, a mixture of rain drops and sea water falling over his eyelashes and his flushed cheeks.

"I can't float," Harry confessed, "My legs are too long or something."

"Mhhm, you do have very long legs," Louis agreed with a diagnostic tone, then pointed to his own ass, "You also don't have a built in floatation device."

And that just wasn't fair. Louis was just teasing now. Harry opened his mouth to make a retort, but ended up just closing it again, gobbling wordlessly like a fish.

"We should probably head back in," Louis saved him, "The current's getting pretty strong, there's probably a few rips out here, it's probably not safe anymore."

Harry nodded in understanding, trailing Louis as they waded out back to the shore, picking up their clothes and discarded items and heading back to the resort.

Once they got under shelter, Harry lead them back towards his hotel room. He pulled out his key card and opened the door when they finally reach it, turning back to Louis with a hopeful look, "Did you want to come in and dry off?"

 _Have a drink maybe?_ He wanted to add, but he didn't want to cross any lines.

"Yeah, thanks," Louis entered, taking in his surroundings, "I forgot how nice these places are."

Harry shook his head like a wet dog, throwing droplets of water everywhere. He walked into the bathroom and grabbed each of them a towel from the rack, handing one to Louis and getting a small "thanks" in return.

"'S okay," He took a seat on the edge of his big, white, freshly made bed. Housekeeping had left two chocolates on his pillow like they did every day and tied the mosquito net up. "Don't you live here?"

Louis didn't join Harry on the bed, opting to stand mildly uncomfortably in front of him. He dried his hair off with the towel and it became a fluffy mop on the top of his head and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"We don't live in the actual resort. We have dorms just down the road. They're not too bad, shared kitchen, bathrooms, just two single beds to a room. A bit like a backpackers hostel, but we just spend most of our time here. We eat here, we party here. We really only use our rooms for sleeping and showering."

Harry noticed while he was talking that Louis was shifting a little from foot to foot, his hands sitting awkwardly across his stomach.

"Did you want a jumper or shirt or something?" he offered, but didn't wait for a reply. He leaned across the big bed to his suitcase on the floor on the opposite side and pulled out a clean sweatshirt. It was just a plain grey long sleeve, but he figured Louis wouldn't mind.

He tossed it to him and Louis gave him a small thank you smile and tugged it over his body and Harry almost laughed. The sleeves of the sweatshirt were long past Louis' fingertips, the neck so wide on him that it hung loosely over his collarbones and the bottom of it went to half way down the boy's thighs.

He almost laughed - would have if it wasn't the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. Harry wanted to bundle him up in his arms and kiss the top of his head.

"Urgh," Louis groaned, "You're so bloody _huge_."

And Harry couldn't help himself. He waggled his eyebrows and Louis burst out laughing.

Making Louis laugh was definitely going to become on of Harry's newest hobbies.

"I actually uhm," Louis freed his hands from the cotton enveloping his body, "I should head back home."

There was no explanation and Harry caught on pretty quickly that Louis didn't have one and that he just thought it was best that he leave now.

"You're welcome to stay, but if not, are you busy tomorrow?"

Louis ignored Harry's offer and bit his lip, "I have a class tomorrow morning, you can come watch, then we could have lunch if you'd like. I have classes all afternoon though."

Harry was going to take whatever he could get. "Yeah, that sounds good."

The uncomfortable silence lingered, so Harry was the one to break the ice. Especially when he realised that Louis was just standing there staring at him, and that he was still laying half naked and soaking wet on his bed. He cleared his throat and stood up, walking Louis to the door and opening it for him.

"Thanks, I had heaps of fun today, you're alright despite your height and strength and curls," Louis joked endearingly.

"I don't know what you could possibly have again my hair, but thanks," Harry gave him a smile he knew was shocking - dimples and sparkling eyes and charm on full.

He watched Louis' eyes drop to his lips and swallow and they both paused for a second, Harry's hand flexing against the door frame above Louis' head, his body only one step away from completely enveloping Louis' smaller frame.

Harry counted three heartbeats and bit down on his lip, waiting for the other boy to do something, _anything._

"Well, I uhm," Louis cleared his throat and scratched his chin, "I'll see you tomorrow."

And he ducked out of Harry's way and out the door, leaving the other boy standing in the frame.

When Harry wanted Louis to do _anything_ , that was not what he was after.

Once Louis was no longer in sight, he let out a resigning sigh and returned to his room.

The minibar had been restocked, much to his pleasure, so he took out a chocolate bar and a beer and sat himself on his bed, his back propped up with pillows against the headboard.

It was too quiet with Louis gone now and Niall wasn't there to fill the silence anymore. It was quite confronting as Harry was left with his thoughts again.

He took the wrapper off the chocolate, taking a bite and mulling over all today's events in his head.

He worried that maybe he was too flirtatious and Louis was a bit scared off. The whole day had left him a little confused if he was completely honest. They'd gone from blatantly flirting in the water, to awkward silence, to almost kissing goodbye. Or maybe Harry was reading too much into it, maybe Louis was never going to kiss him and he really had crossed a line.

He wanted to text Louis and check, but it wasn't really something you could just message someone.

Niall would usually listen to him mull it over and digest every look and every word, but he was gone. The Irishman had promised to call Harry when he arrived safely though, so tomorrow he would hopefully get to talk to his friend about it all.

Until then though, it was just Harry and his beer and his thoughts and the rain pelting down against the glass doors at the back of his room. Just Harry and a few discarded towels, a lot to process and the smell of ozone.

Harry ordered dinner in through room service and spent the rest of the night watching the amazing flashes of lightning, a documentary about an old war thousands of years ago and his phone for messages from Louis that never came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but I'm also not. 
> 
> I know it kind of jumped right into it, but H + L's time together is very short and they're such an intense pair anyway. I wouldn't put it past them to have fallen for each other in a matter of days in real life anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> New updates on Wednesdays ♡


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay, it's been a while. How are we all? Hope you enjoy the update - I really have missed this story.

Silence at breakfast was not something that Harry had experienced in a while. 

He made his way to the hut when he felt like it, without being dragged out of his bed and hotel room. He collected a bowl of muesli and a banana from the buffet and found himself a seat at the bench that looked out across the water - no need for a table for two. He alternated his gaze between the mewling beach in front of him and the newspaper in a language he couldn't read that the man sat next to him was reading.

It was all pretty boring to be completely honest. It was exactly what he had expected to do on his trip, but now that he'd met such wonderful people and had such a good time, his mind had changed.

He placed his bowl atop a pile of dishes and gave a small smile to the waitress when she thanked him. 

The walk back to his room was as beautiful as ever. The storm had left all the plants nourished and a brilliant green, the sea was as strikingly crystal blue as ever and all these brighter colours were contrasted even more so by the white of the sand that had since dried out from the rainfall in the heat of the sun. Everything felt and smelt refreshed.

Harry dropped past his hotel room only to grab his sunglasses, his iPod and a book before heading off to the surf beach.

Subtlety was not Harry's strong suit, but in all fairness he wasn't even trying to be subtle. Louis  _had_ specifically told him that he was teaching all morning and afternoon and they could have lunch together and Harry sure as hell wasn't going to sit in his room or by the pool and hope that this magnificent boy was just going to remember their plans and search for him. God, guys like Louis don't come around often at all and Harry knew that he was going to have to fight - or at least work hard - for him. Louis wasn't going to come running after him.

Harry spent a lot of his life being the chased, rather than the chaser. He got attention from males and females wherever he went. He always found it effortless to woo people over: all he needed was to flash a smile and speak a few words and most people were putty in his hands. His mother and all her friends had always told him he was "magnetic" and "beyond exceptionally charming".

He wasn't arrogant about it all - just aware of it.

It frustrated him a lot of the time, because nobody ever seemed to treat him like any other human, which really, that's all he was. Zayn hadn't given a shit and that's what Harry had loved so much. Harry had to work at Zayn, had to get him out of his shell. Their relationship had been a two way street - both of them had put effort into the chase and both of them had put effort into the relationship. In the end, well, Harry still wasn't sure if he tried too hard or didn't try hard enough or maybe he just wasn't good enough, maybe he wasn't loveable. 

Whatever it was, he was going to make damn sure it didn't happen with Louis. He wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by him. He wasn't going to become complacent like he did with Zayn.

Harry found a nice spot under a tall, almost ridiculously generic palm tree, nestled into the sand there and managed to get through about a hundred pages of Charles Bukowski poetries before someone was standing in front of him, arms on hips and dropping water everywhere.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" Harry asked with a faux tone of annoyance and a tinge of playfulness. 

Louis cleared his throat, "Well, I'm meant to have lunch with this boy, but I saw you sitting here for a couple of hours all by yourself and I thought I'd come ask you to lunch instead."

"What about the other guy?"

"Pssht," Louis waved his hand dismissively, "Screw him - you're cuter anyway."

Harry set his book down and internalised his feelings over Louis calling him cute, put them away in a drawer to giggle and be giddy over later on. When he looked up with a perfectly put-on, nonchalant roll of his eyes, Louis was still standing with his hands on his hips, his wetsuit around his waist and his surfboard discarded about ten feet behind him.

"I feel bad for the other guy, but you snooze you lose hey?" Harry continued as he picked up his things and stood up next to Louis.

"This is true," Louis hummed. He threw his thumb over his shoulder and added, "I need to just get changed quickly. I'll meet you where we had lunch with Niall and Stan in ten minutes?"

"Sure thing."

With no more than a nod, Louis was jogging off to collect his things and Harry dawdled his way toward the restaurant. 

He asked the waitress on arrival for a table for two and watched her smile falter slightly, before she led him to a small wooden table with two black chairs.

"Can I get you a drink in the meantime?" The waitress held her pen just above the paper of her notepad in waiting.

"No, thank you, but I'll wait for-"

"Bit rude to start without me don't you think?" Louis interrupted before Harry could finish. He gave a wink and a cheeky grin to the waitress and sat opposite Harry.

Harry who was sitting borderline dumbfounded at the sight that sat before him. Louis had changed into a loose hanging Stone Roses singlet and light denim shorts that rolled up at just above his knee. His hair had dried in the sun into a sea-salty mess and Harry couldn't help but think he looked absolutely angelic in a mused kind of way.

He feels his tongue instinctively wet his lips and curses his body to hell as he watches Louis watch him watching him and Louis' eyes sparkle something mischievous as they watch Harry's mouth gives away his internal dialogue. And if that wasn't enough, Harry's cheeks turn against him too and burn hot with traitorous blood.

Harry looks down and picks up the menu in a futile attempt to hide his body language, which when he thinks about it probably only just adds to the obviousness of his behaviour.

He mentally slaps himself for not saying something cool and dismissive like  _"Gee, that sun really dries your lips out, doesn't it?",_ rather than blushing and hiding like a schoolgirl. _  
_

"You uh-" Harry tries to begin, clearing his throat and watching Louis' eyes dance like he's three years old and Harry is his new favourite toy, "you don't get sick of teaching people to surf all day?"

"Nope." 

_Yeah, real good conversation starter there Harry._

Louis waits unwaveringly for Harry to ask him another question. He's taunting him, making him squirm - not in a mean spirited way, but as if testing him.

"You're so patient. All those people, myself included, are absolutely hopeless. Surely it gets frustrating sometimes?"

_Please, please answer with more than a one word answer._

"Nope."

_Fuck._

Harry laughs at Louis' brevity, but it comes out as the most uncomfortable strangled sound that he thinks he's ever made and he wonders where his charm and his confidence have gone and why now of all times.

Thankfully, Louis seems to have had his fun and is ready to start relieving the squirming mess sat opposite him.

"I have four younger sisters, so I'm pretty patient. I spent the first twenty years of my life teaching them things, watching them fuck it up, laughing with them and then trying again."

"I have one sister - she's older though. Four sisters must be crazy." 

"I love them," Louis shrugs, as if to say that _yeah, it is crazy... but I wouldn't swap it for the world_ , "I miss them a lot actually. I haven't been home in about a year, I really should go back soon."

Harry's mind immediately imagines Louis back in England with four little girls running around his ankles. 

He imagines Louis wrapped in a hoodie that's too big for him and a beanie and a scarf: protection from the cold, English air. Maybe he even imagines Louis cuddling into his side when a particularly cold gust of wind blows by them.

He needs to distract himself before he gets too carried away.

"Tell me something else," Harry demands.

Louis leans back in his chair and looks up at the sky, trying to think of something.

"I'm a great footballer, but I'm also a massive shit-talker. So you'll have to watch me play and decide for yourself, but honestly, I'm the best."

Harry laughs and also perks up at the idea of Louis playing football all muddy and sweaty, but the waitress appears before he can ask Louis another question.

After finding out that Louis was a drama nerd at school, he's definitely more of a summer person (Harry had rolled his eyes and given him a "well, duh") and he loves to sing but thinks he's shit and no, he won't sing for Harry now or any time in the near future, Louis realises that it's time for him to head back to teach another class.

He says he's getting up to go to the bathroom quickly, but when he returns Harry finds out that he paid for lunch and Harry pouts, but wonders what that means if anything.

They wander back to the main surf beach together and Harry tells Louis that he's more of an American football fan than a soccer-football fan, that he loves poetry and that he thinks he's a pretty good singer and yes, if Louis wants him to sing for him sometime soon it can be arranged.

Louis beams at him and the sun beams down on the both of them and the sand under Harry's feet is hot, the breeze coming off the ocean is refreshingly cool and Louis looks breathtaking as always next to him and god, he feels so comfortable just walking and talking to Louis like this.

That is until they stop outside Harry's hotel room and he turns around to say goodbye and Harry almost leans in for a hug, but Louis' posture tells him that maybe he shouldn't so Louis gives an awkward little wave and a tiny smile and his eyes are wide with an internal conflict.

Harry is left standing in his hotel door again feeling completely let down and uncomfortable and very confused.

He doesn't go inside his room - there's nothing and nobody in there. He saunters off to the pool and finds himself a sun bed and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Clicking into his conversation with Niall he types out an SOS text.

 

**Hey pal. How's home?**

 

He isn't sure what time it is back in the UK, but he's pretty sure that Niall Horan doesn't sleep. 

 

_Ayyyyy Hazza! its fucking shit mate! hows the sun and ur boyfriend?_

 

Harry rolls his eyes, but taps out a response. He tells Niall all about sitting in the storm with Louis, about the two moments they've almost had in the doorframe. He tells him that he has no idea what to do, because sometimes he feels like Louis likes him and then sometimes he feels like he's completely misjudged everything and that Louis is actually not even gay in the slightest and has no intention of ever kissing Harry.

 

_dunno mate! just tell him yeah? what have u got to lose?_

 

He has quite a bit to lose thank you very much. Niall clearly isn't giving him the answers that he's so desperate for. With a resigning sigh, he closes the messages on his phone and closes his eyes.

Of course it's only about ten seconds of serenity and the sun warming him to his bones before his phone buzzes again. Niall loves a good text conversation if the last day or so has been anything to go by, either that or he's incredibly bored. Maybe both.

Except when Harry squints at his phone it's not Niall.

It's not from someone in his contacts, but he knows the number very well. He knows who it is immediately and he feels himself being dragged back into the darkness he felt like he was finally escaping.

 

_hey mate! are you okkkk? i tried to come by a few times but u weren't homeee! we miss you :(((((((_

 

What the hell was Liam Payne doing at his apartment? What the hell does he mean by "we miss you"? Does Zayn miss him? Does Zayn want him back? After everything that Harry's been put through, he asks himself if he even wants Zayn back.

He types out a blunt response, not giving away even a slither of the emotional turmoil he is experiencing. 

 

**On holidays overseas. I'm fine.**

 

He doesn't put his phone away though, he just sits and watches Liam's little speech bubble appear and disappear then appear again - a sign that he's tapping out a response, but deleting it and starting again, over and over again.

Eventually Harry just receives another sad smiley face with a few too many parenthesis and that's just about how he feels too.

He doesn't know if Liam's sad face is at Harry's shitty response, or that Harry's overseas or because Harry's "fine" and maybe Zayn's not and god, who knew a bunch of words on a screen could bring up so much.

Harry tosses and turns everything over in his head, rereading the message from Liam over and over again, reliving the arguments he and Zayn had, reliving Zayn walking out the door, reliving Zayn picking up all of his things from the apartment with a cold, emotionless look on his face - not showing any sign of remorse or regret no matter how hard Harry cried, how much he begged. 

Harry thinks until he can't think at all and he starts going numb and the tears start welling in his eyes and he suddenly doesn't want to be at the pool anymore.

He quickly scrambles to his feet, picking up his discarded shirt and tries very hard to not throw his phone into the pool water as he leaves.

The walk to his hotel room has never felt so long, yet he's never walked back so fast and by the time he's trying to get the stupid door open, the first tears have broken and started rolling fat and warm from underneath his sunglasses and down his cheeks.

He pushes open the door with a sigh of exhaustion and relief that rolls through his whole body. Discarding his things on the desk, he makes a beeline for the bed.

The soft mattress breaks his fall when he flops down face first into the fabric. He scrambles up the bed and lets the sobs start shaking his body. He cries and cries until at some point the turn into soft sobs that turn into even breaths as he drifts off into sleep - not because he's tired, but because he can't be awake any longer.

So much for "fine".

 

 

+++

 

 

Three incredibly delicate knocks on the big glass doors stir Harry awake. He was always an incredibly deep sleeper, but once started going downhill with Zayn he started to sleep lighter and lighter, less and less and now a bug flying into the room would wake him up.

He rubs his eyes, still tired and sore and wet from crying and he was probably crying in his sleep too. He hears another two slightly louder knocks, so he forces his torso upright and swings his legs off the bed.

For some sleep-confused reason, he assumes it's going to be Niall at the window door, but when he pulls pack the soft, white curtains to see Louis standing there he's suddenly very awake.

He slides open the door and watches as Louis takes in what is probably a very confused looking and sleep-mused Harry. 

"Hi, can I come in?" Louis asks, but he doesn't wait for an answer and Harry doesn't give him one. He just steps aside and lets the boy walk past him and into the room.

"I really want to talk to you because-" Harry sniffles, because now that he's awake of course he's crying again and, "are you crying?"

"I- no. Yeah."

Louis makes it right up to him in two quick steps and looks right into his eyes. Harry looks away, doesn't want Louis to see him like this: weak and vulnerable and disgusting. 

"Hey," Louis coos, wiping away one of the tears that rolls down Harry's wet cheeks, "what's wrong?"

Harry doesn't respond. Harry doesn't want to tell him that he's crying because he got a text from an old friend asking him why he isn't at home, because really, that's all it was. But it was so much more, but it wouldn't sound that way. Maybe Louis would scoff at him and tell him he's being stupid, maybe he would be right.

"You can tell me if you want?"

Louis' tiny hands are cupping Harry's face, his thumb catching every second tear and his eyes boring into Harry's, but Harry doesn't return the eye contact. He still doesn't want Louis to see him right now. Sure as hell doesn't want Louis to feel sorry for him. Doesn't want Louis to think he's pathetic and childish.

"Harry? Look at me?"

Harry wants to look, _god,_ he wants to look. Wants to look into Louis' eyes and to feel that spark of excitement that everything might just be okay again. 

"Please?"

Resisting turning his head starts becoming a fight. He's losing the fight because Louis' thumbs have stilled and Harry's tears have slowed and Louis' voice is getting softer.

" _Please baby?"_ _  
_

And everything stops.

Louis freezes. 

Harry's tears stop.

They both hold on to their breath.

When Harry turns his head and lowers his gaze, Louis is looking straight up at him, blue eyes glistening even in the darkness.

Harry thinks he can hear the soft crashing of the waves on the sand just outside the still ajar door, but it could also be the pounding and rushing of his heart and the blood in his ears. 

It's all a blur from there. Harry doesn't know how they got from looking at each other to now, but at some point Harry looked at Louis' lips and Louis leant up on his toes and moved one hand to cup the back of Harry's neck and pull him down and now their lips are attached.

They pull away almost in shock after the initial contact, Harry finally letting out the breath he'd been holding before Louis tugs him down again.

The light stubble on Louis' chin scratches Harry's, but his lips are soft and smooth and so perfectly sliding with his.

Harry lifts his hands to grab a hold of Louis' hips, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Fireworks start popping behind Harry's eyes and he can't think of anything but Louis, Louis,  _Louis._ _  
_

He slides his tongue along Louis' bottom lip and he is granted access with a very, very soft moan.

Louis pulls on the shorter curls at the nape of Harry's neck while Harry's tongue explores his mouth. 

It's all so much, too much. Harry's head is spinning and feelings are pooling and tingling at the bottom of his stomach and just before he's about to make the decision to pick Louis up and throw him on the bed, Louis is pulling away.

Harry doesn't let his hips go and Louis' little hands remain clasped behind Harry's neck, their faces remain incredibly close, their eyes stay closed.

When Louis finally speaks his voice is as quiet as ever.

"I came here to tell you that I should have kissed you last night and that I should have kissed you this afternoon," Louis takes a breath and Harry thinks about telling him that he doesn't mind - it was worth the wait, but he stays silent and let's Louis continue. "I know I don't know a lot about you, but  _god,_ I want to Harry. I know that you've been hurt and if you don't want to talk about it that's okay. I'm going to assume that that's what you were crying about."

Harry goes to interrupt, but Louis silences him with just a look. "I also completely understand if I am totally out of line and you're not ready for anything else just yet. But if you do feel like you want to, I don't know, try something with me then I'm here. I know we're on a tight time schedule here but..."

And then Louis' waiting for Harry's answer, but Harry can't speak. He can't believe what just came out of Louis' mouth. He can't comprehend that this angelic boy feels the same thing he feels.

Without the luxury of comprehendible speech at his disposal, he answers Louis by pulling him in for another kiss, but this time softer.

The kiss doesn't have the excitement of the first, doesn't have that shock. This kiss is just relief; relief and the start of something new and maybe even something big.

When Harry pulls away he's grinning and Louis' eyes sparkle.

"You're in?" Louis asks, but he already knows the answer.

Harry confirms with a nod of his head, "I'm in."

"I don't have classes tomorrow, so I'll pick you up after breakfast at 11?"

Harry just nods again, barely able to murmur a small, "Sounds perfect."

He feels a slight twinge of disappointment as Louis untangles himself from Harry's arms and heads towards the front door, but Harry completely understands that they're not just going to jump straight into bed together whether it's for sex or sleep and Harry thinks it's only because he was crying not ten minutes ago and Louis seems to understand that Harry needs to just sit and process.

Louis stops in the doorframe again, but this time Harry does kiss him. Third time's the charm and he quickly catches his lips in a chaste farewell. 

"Seeing you so upset is the single most heart-breaking thing I've ever seen and whoever makes you feel like that isn't worthy of your tears."

Harry leans into the palm of Louis' hand on his cheek and hums at his words.

"I hope you can let me try and make you happy, Harry."

Louis drops his hand and holds Harry's gaze for a few moments to let him see how serious he is, how hopeful he is, how sincere he is. 

"Goodnight Harry."

Harry wants to let him in, wants Louis to brighten up every little nook and cranny of his life. He wants to have more than just four more days of this radiant boy. 

He wants to tell him that yes, he wants to take this as far as it will go.

He wants to ask Louis to stay, but he settles for a simply goodnight and resigns back to his bed.

His head swims, but not in the way it did before. The dark feeling, the murky water he was submerged in earlier that afternoon had turned a beautiful crystal blue. He fell asleep knowing that tomorrow the sun would shine brighter than it has in months and the air will feel crisper and lighter and the hope and excitement of a new relationship he thought might never return would come back to him. 


End file.
